oy vey

Don't be Nervous

blumvale — Fri, 20 Sep 2013 07:20:15 GMT

Title: Don't be Nervous
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stiles/Derek – Sterek
Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, and Sheriff Stilinski
Summary: Stiles, a cop, is taking his barista boyfriend to meet his father for the first time.
Warnings: no warnings unless fluff scares you :)
Disclaimer: I don't own them ... and all errors are mine
Author’s Note: this is a follow up to my story, Is this a Date of Some Kind? Which was part of my first Trope Bingo card. This story is for my second Bingo card, yay Bingo!

You can read more behind the cut, or click the title to go to AO3

“Derek, jeeze it’s not like I’m taking you out back to shoot you, relax. It’s just dinner with my dad.”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” Derek shoved Stiles hard with his shoulder and gave him the finger at the same time.

Stumbling along the sidewalk, Stiles tripped over his own two feet and nearly fell off the curb. He muttered something about police brutality but when he managed to straighten, he threw one fist in the air in silent cheer. Derek rolled his eyes; sometimes he wondered what he saw in his cop boyfriend. Stiles took Derek’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers. They’d been seeing each other about six weeks and while neither of them loved pda, handing holding was something they both liked. Derek may actually love it, but he didn’t say.

“It’s just my dad, jackass,” Stiles said, giving the back of Derek’s hand a quick kiss. “It’s not like you haven’t met him before.”

And that was true. Stiles had raved about Hale’s Coffee so many times (before and after he and Derek had started dating) that the Beacon Hills Sheriff had taken a drive over to see just what was so special. He hadn’t needed to introduce himself when he came in; Derek knew he was Stiles’ father. They looked enough alike and it helped when his jacket announced him as the Beacon Hills Sheriff.

“Aren’t you a little out of your jurisdiction, Sheriff?” Derek asked and then mentally kicked himself for sounding stupid.

But the Sheriff snorted and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he admitted while he perused the menu. Hale’s coffee wasn’t as fancy as Starbucks but what they made, they made right. “I just heard about this place and wanted to see what the buzz was about.” When Derek tried to smile, the Sheriff got a strange look on his face. Derek recognized it from Stiles’ face; it was his, ‘there’s something fishy going on here and I’m going to figure out what’ face.

“Here you go, sir,” Derek said once he gave Sheriff Stilinski his black coffee. He pointed to the counter off to the side. “Splenda and the like are over there. This one’s on the house.”

Tilting his head in thanks, the Sheriff said, “That’s really nice of you. Unnecessary, but nice.”

“Well, you know…” Derek nervously reached up to scratch the back of his head. “You and the men and women in your department keep us safe. Least I can do is give you a cup of joe.”

The Sheriff didn’t say anything else, just looked at Derek for a long moment before heading out. Derek waited almost an hour before calling Stiles in a panic about the whole encounter.

Giving Derek’s hand a firm squeeze, Stiles begged, “Please just relax. My dad has never shot any of my previous boyfriends or girlfriends. Although…” Stiles looked at the sidewalk and then back up to Derek. “You are the first one I’m bringing home.”

“I am?” Derek squeaked. Quickly he cleared his throat and asked again, “I am?” This time his voice was low and gravely.

“Yeah, jackass, you are.” Stiles licked his lips before smiling. “I really like you, am serious about you. And I want my dad to know that.” Derek felt his heart clench at Stiles’ words and couldn’t keep a large grin from forming on his face. “Now, come on. We’re here.” Stiles pulled Derek up the walkway to the porch. He was pulling his keys out when the door opened and Sheriff Stilinski stood in the doorway.

“’Bout time you two got here,” the Sheriff greeted. He held out his hand and said, “Derek Hale, pleasure to see you again.”

“Pleasures all mine, sir.” Derek gave the Sheriff a firm handshake. Earlier he had vowed to make the best impression possible on his boyfriend’s father.

Once he let go of Derek’s hand, the Sheriff took his son in a tight hug. “Good to see you, kid.”

“Dad,” Stiles whined into his father’s shoulder, hugging him back. “You see me almost everyday and we just had lunch this afternoon.”

“A father can never see his child enough,” Sheriff Stilinski replied as he herded Stiles and Derek into the house. “When you have kids, you’ll understand.” He winked at Derek who blushed in return. “Now, Stiles, you go make sure everything is done in the kitchen. Don’t let the sauce burn. You know the drill.”

“Ten-four, Sheriff.” Stiles gave his father a mock salute and then ducked when his father took a playful swing at him.

“Too slow, old man,” Stiles teased as he headed into the kitchen.

“And you Derek, take your coat off. Relax, son.” Derek did as instructed and let himself be led to a comfortable looking coach. With his voice low, the Sheriff said, “Quickly, while Stiles is distracted, I’m going to show you some pictures of him growing up.”

“Is this a test, sir?” Derek questioned. “Because I’m not sure how Stiles will feel about that…”

For a second Stiles’ father looked taken aback but then he laughed loudly. “Oh, now I see it, why Stiles’ likes you. You picked a good one son,” he said loudly enough for Stiles to hear him.

“Thanks, dad,” Stiles yelled back. “But technically he picked me. And if you’re going to show him baby pictures, then please nothing past the age of six. I was really gawky from six to well, now really. I guess I’m still kinda gawky. Thanks, dad.”

Looking at the photo albums in his hands, the Sheriff looked a little scandalized at getting caught by his own son. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, looking for a specific photo. “I’ll just show you my favorite picture then.” The Sheriff put one album down and picked up another. “Well my second favorite. My first favorite is one a nurse took of me sitting in my wife’s hospital bed and she’s holding Stiles right after he was born. But my second favorite…” He was about half way through the album when he dumped it onto Derek’s lap. Looking down, Derek couldn’t help but smile. Stiles was about a year old, sitting in the tub with a bubble beard. Next to the tub was a beautiful looking woman that Derek was sure to be Claudia. He’d seen a picture of her the first time he’d gone to Stiles’ apartment. Claudia was laughing; a bright smile stuck in place and the front of her dress was soaked. But she looked so happy.

“Hmm, hmm,” Stiles made a noise to get his father’s and boyfriend’s attention. “Dinner is served.”

Gently, Derek closed the photo album, placed it on the coffee table, and stood; the Sheriff already striding past his son to go to the kitchen table. When Derek neared Stiles, he stopped and kissed the younger man on the cheek. “You were a cute kid.”

“I know.” Stiles grinned. “He show you the one with the bubble beard?” Stiles gestured to his face that lacked even a hint of facial hair and Derek nodded. “I was adorable. You know,” Stiles leaned his head on Derek’s shoulder; it was a good thing they were close in height. “Maybe we could have a bubble bath later tonight, the two of us, hmm?” Stiles looked up at Derek and waggled his eyebrows.

But before Derek could confirm the idea, the Sheriff called from the kitchen, “Dinner boys!”

Ambling away, Stiles winked at Derek. “Yes, dad. Coming, dad,” he called over his shoulder. Using his pointer finger he gestured for Derek to follow. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Derek confirmed. “I am.”

trope bingo on dreamwidth

blumvale — Fri, 05 Apr 2013 15:50:47 GMT

mistletoe kiss	accidental marriage	road trip	telepathy / mindmeld	game night
au: cop / detective	curtainfic	mind control	locked in	slavefic
virginfic / secretly a virgin	au: coffee shop	FREE ★ SPACE	au: space	rivals to lovers
au: band	cross-dressing	immortality / reincarnation	presumed dead	genderswap
snowed in	sex pollen	au: hooker / porn / stripper	au: other	soul bonding / soulmates

First Friday of the Month - NCIS fic

blumvale — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 11:36:32 GMT

Title First Friday of the Month
Word Count: about 2,000
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo (unrequited), DiNozzo/McGee(unrequited), DiNozzo/Kate (friendship)
Summary – Tony visits McGee for some drinks. It’s the first Friday of the month and he doesn’t have Kate to spend it with.

Spoilers if you didn’t see the end of Season 2

Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form one NCIS or make a profit from this story. It'd be nice if I did but I don't. ::major sad face::

This is a prequel to Fight and both stories can be found on my journal or at AO3

all errors are mine

“Hey, Probie,” Tony called through the door. “Let me in.” Tim heard a soft thud and when he looked through the peephole he saw DiNozzo using a pizza box as a doorknocker. “I brought beer,” Tony said, a singsong quality to his voice. “Let me in,” he repeated. Tim felt it hard to resist the order. So, opening the door, he moved to let Tony inside.

DiNozzo, with six-pack in hand, moved easily through Tim’s apartment. He headed straight for the tight kitchen where he put the pizza down and searched for some plates. Moving to help, Tim got the to correct cabinet first and pulled out two.

“Thanks Probie,” Tony said as he opened the box and pulled a slice out. Tim wasn’t surprised to see it was DiNozzo’s favorite, pepperoni, sausage, and extra cheese. “Mmm,” Tony moaned with his first bite and Tim’s heart clenched at the sound. He wished it were something he’d done that made Tony sound like that and not some pizza. “This is perfection dude, you gotta have some.”

“Well I would if I didn’t think you’d inhale it all before I got a chance.”

Tony stuck out his tongue and slid a slice onto Tim’s plate. “There you go. It’s safe for the moment. But I call dibs on your crust should you choose not to eat it.”

Tim rolled his eyes at the banter. It was familiar and safe and it made it ok for Tim to lean against his kitchen counter, close enough to Tony that their shoulders brushed. “So what prompted this visit?” Tim asked after he finished his first slice and had passed his crust onto the older man’s plate.

“Can’t a guy just visit his Probie? His McGeek? His McGoo?”

“Tony,” Tim cut in. He got enough of the nicknames at work; he didn’t need to hear them in his own home. He opened the pizza box and pulled a second slice out. Pepperoni or sausage weren’t his preferred toppings but the extra cheese made up for them.

Tony popped Tim’s crust into his mouth, put his plate down, and grabbed a beer out of the pack. He got the cap off and took a drink. When he put the bottle down a second later, it was empty.

“Thirsty?” Tim asked. He’d seen DiNozzo drink before, but never quite that fast.

Tony didn’t answer right away. Instead he grabbed a second beer and took a long draw from it, drinking half in a couple of gulps. Tony sighed and looked down at the drink in his hand. “You know… as much as we bickered, Kate and I did spend time together outside of work. Unless we had a case, we almost always spent the first Friday of the month, drinking together.”

Tim didn’t know what to say. Even when he’d heard others joke about Tony and Kate’s relationship, he knew it was more ‘brother/sister’ than ‘ust’. A second later he realized it was the first Friday of the month and Tony had chosen to spend it with him. “And you’d go out?” Tim asked. He wasn’t jealous that he’d never been invited to join them. He was the newest member of the team, and there had been plenty of nights where the three of them along with Abby, Palmer, and sometimes Ducky, went out. It was nice to know that Kate and Tony had had a night that was just theirs.

“Yeah, Kate usually picked. You know, she wanted someplace that served her fruity cocktails.” Tim rolled his eyes at the jibe; they both knew Kate could take her beer like the best of them. “Sometimes she picked a place where we could dance…” Tony finished his drink and started on a third. He didn’t offer one to Tim and Tim didn’t try to steal one away. “But usually we just hung out, swapped stories, and sometimes tried to see who could get more numbers.”

Tim was a little surprised by that side of Kate. As much as he loved her, sometimes he thought she was a little prudish. The idea of her chatting up guys at a bar didn’t quite fit with what was in his head.

“God…” Tony whispered, “She almost always won. But I would keep extra numbers in my jacket so that I could win sometimes. Loser had to buy the next round of drinks…”

“She probably knew you cheated.” Kate was smart like that.

“Yeah, you’re probably right Probie.” Tony put his three bottles in a row and stared at them for a moment. “Don’t know why she ever let me get away with it,” he murmured more to his drinks than to Tim.

“Well, you were friends,” Tim said and bumped his shoulder into Tony’s. Tony just nodded, a frown on his face growing by the second. “If you hadn’t been, I’m sure she would have castrated you for going through her purse… her phone, messages… her desk…”

Tony let out a strangled laugh and reached for another beer. “Don’t make me laugh Probie,” he said after most of his drink was gone. “It doesn’t feel right to laugh without her, not tonight.”

Tim silently agreed. The fourth beer was replaced with a fifth before Tim said, “Why don’t we go sit down. Grab the pizza and we can sit in the other room.” He took the last beer out of the pack and carried it, with his pizza, into his living room. The apartment was tiny, especially with computer hardware he had about, but Tim had a couch that could fit the two of them comfortably, and that’s what mattered. Tim sat and tried to relax. He passed the beer over to Tony; he hadn’t grabbed it for himself. Considering how quickly he was drinking, Tony was well on his way to getting sloshed so Tim figured he needed to keep his head clear. He needed to be the responsible one.

They ate their pizza and sat together in comfortable silence. But after Tony had finished the six-pack he’d brought, he looked to Tim for more. Knowing he had more beer in his fridge, Tim just gestured back to his kitchen. Tony didn’t hesitate to get up and if he swayed a tiny bit, neither man mentioned it. Tony returned to the couch, a beer in each hand. He popped one open and said, “She was really brave.”

“Yes,” Tim echoed, “She really was.”

“No, I don’t mean with the job… we, we all know the risks.” Tony gulped and Tim stared transfixed on the bobbing Adam’s apple. “But when she stayed with me… in the hospital.” Tony turned to look Tim in the eye. “She stayed with me, Tim. I was dying and she stayed with me.”

“Well, you were friends,” Tim repeated. “If I hadn’t been helping Gibbs, I would have been there.” Tim had wanted to be there, had wanted to be with Tony. He’d dreamt several nights of being in Kate’s place, of being the one to comfort DiNozzo when each breath became a war he wasn’t sure he’d win. Tim had dreamt of blue lights and cracked, dry lips. He’d woken up to the sound of wheezing. Even though death had come and claimed a member of his team, he was grateful every day it wasn’t Tony.

“Gibbs…” Tony muttered, staring at the two, now empty, bottles in his hands.

Tim couldn’t believe he’d drank them so quickly. “Maybe you should slow down Tony,” he said, even though the caution was a bit late.

“Yeah maybe…” Tony put the bottles on the floor near the pizza box and leaned back on the couch. He closed his eyes. For a long moment he was quiet and Tim thought maybe he’d fallen asleep. Tim started to move to get a spare blanket when he heard Tony say, “I don’t think I would have made it without Bossman. Kate was great, being there with me,” Tim turned in time to see a tear leak out of Tony’s eye. “But Gibbs ordered me not to die and I had to listen to him.”

As happy as he was that Tony was fine, scarring be damned, Tim rolled his eyes at the mention of their boss. Of course Tony would do anything Gibbs told him to do. “I’m glad you’re ok; I’m glad you’re here,” Tim whispered but Tony made no acknowledgment of hearing him.

“Do you think if I’d died, Kate would still be alive? Do you think maybe Ari would have figured Gibbs had been hurt enough? Do you think Gibbs would have hurt at all if I’d died?”

“Hey!” Tim reached out and grabbed Tony’s shoulder roughly. “You do not get to talk like that. You do not get to dishonor Kate with a pity party. If you’d died at Bethesda, we all, Abby, Ducky, Palmer, Kate, Gibbs… me, we would have all been devastated. I don’t know if Ari still would have killed her, if he ever would have gotten the chance to, but we… you just can’t talk like that Tony. You can’t…”

“I know, I know, Tim,” Tony jostled his shoulder free of Tim’s grip. “Seriously, I’ve had plenty of time to think about this. If we’re not worked up on a case all I can think about is Kate on the roof. I can still feel her blood on my face…” Tony absently wiped at his face. “I thought things would be different now…”

“Different how?”

“Well…” Tony paused to lick his lips and Tim stared at the pick tip that darted out. “I almost died and then Kate did… There are so many things I wish I’d gotten to say to her; I’ll never get the chance to now. And with-“ Tony cut off sharply to not say the name Tim already knew but didn’t acknowledge. “I thought maybe he’d embrace life… realize how quickly it could be snuffed out. I thought maybe he’d finally make a move. But he’s never going to… things aren’t going to change. I lived for him and I don’t even think he cares.”

Tim hesitated for a moment but then reached out to touch Tony’s shoulder again. “He does,” he said softly. “I’m sure of it; he cares about you.” He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t supposed to know that Tony practically worshiped the ground Gibbs walked on. Tim wasn’t sure if anyone else knew the of senior field agent’s feelings and until Tony actually said Gibbs’ name, he wasn’t going to say it either.

“Yeah…” Tony voice was sluggish, sleepy. “Thanks for letting me come over tonight Probie.”

“You’re welcome here anytime Tony.” Tim stood up and stretched. Then he moved to get some bedding. When he made it back to the couch, Tony was fast asleep, a small bit of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. Tim made a mental note so that he could tease Tony of that later. He really liked pulling DiNozzo’s pigtails but didn’t get to often; the older man was much better at teasing and comebacks. Once he was certain that Tony was set for the night, Tim went about cleaning up the empty beer bottles and put the left over pizza in the fridge. There were only a couple slices left, ready for a delicious but unhealthy breakfast. Tim filled up a glass with water and shut off the kitchen light. He took a few sips of the cool liquid as he made sure the apartment was locked. Then he put the glass down next to the couch for Tony and headed into his bedroom. It wasn’t fair to have Tony so close and not be able to touch him, sleep next to him, wake up to his smile and morning breath. Tim wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance. But he hoped he would as he changed stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt. Though it wasn’t that late, he got into bed, knowing a good night’s sleep would help him take care of Tony in the morning. Thinking of the ingredients he would need for a ‘DiNozzo Hangover Cure,’ Tim fell asleep.

(Don't) Forget Me, I Beg

blumvale — Tue, 30 Oct 2012 16:22:56 GMT

I'm in China so it's officially Halloween here, even if no one really celebrates it. ::sad face:: Happy Halloween!

For halloween_tibbs go there for more goodies :)

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Genre: ummm? Pre-slash I guess… but then they get together, kinda…
Summary: It’s just a regular day at the office. But if it’s so regular, why does it seem like only Gibbs can see Tony?

Warnings: Major Character Deaths and I hope you're caught up to at least the season premier of 10 :)
Disclaimer: I don't own them ... and all errors are mine

Author’s Note: I’m messing with the dates a little bit. Please pretend the bombing was September. And let’s pretend Ducky got cleared for work pretty quick. Thank you. And I know this isn’t particularly Halloweeny - really I don’t know where this came from. Typically I don’t like hurting any characters, and I actually killed some in this one. This really isn’t me, but I hope you still enjoy it for what it is.

And a huge thank you to singer_s_lament for being awesome and betaing my work! Thanks again, honey! I appreciate it!

Exiting the elevator, coffee in hand, Gibbs glared at everyone he walked past. He strode purposely to his desk. Before he sat, he drained the last of his coffee and dumped the empty container in the trash. Looking over at his team he was internally pleased to see McGee typing away at his computer. Similarly, Ziva was working on a report. But DiNozzo’s desk was empty. The familiar Mighty Mouse stapler was laid out, ignored papers lying right next to it. Where was his senior field agent?

A strange feeling in his gut, Gibbs tried to focus on some work. But he constantly looked over to the empty desk. His two junior agents didn’t seem to miss the older man. They made no comments about his absence nor did they offer up any reason for him to not be in. The unease in Gibbs’ jut grew.

The elevator dinged.

Like a puppet on a string, Gibbs stood to see who had come in. He didn’t like the comparison but it felt appropriate. He relaxed minutely when he saw Tony exiting the elevator with a woman from legal. He ignored the questioning glance that passed between his two other agents. The younger man look disheveled. His suit was wrinkled and dusty. Sitting back down, Gibbs wrinkled his nose at the site, frowning. He was used to DiNozzo looking crisp, clean. Well, except for the times he was called in on his day off. There’d been many of those days recently, work consuming more hours than usual. But there were worse things than seeing Tony in sweats (worse smells too).

“Sorry, Boss, sorry. I was held up.” Tony said as he tossed his pack to the side. He didn’t explain further causing Gibbs’ frown to grow.

Before the older man could ask him to elaborate, his cell phone rang. With three sets of eyes set on him, Jethro spoke to the operator. “Gotcha,” he muttered after a moment and snapped his phone closed. Immediately his team stood. Slowly, he followed suit. Then Gibbs tossed the keys to McGee, “Get the truck. We’re heading out.”

“Sure, Boss.” McGee said, fumbling slightly to catch the keys. He grabbed his pack and headed out of the bullpen.

“Where are we going?” Ziva asked, already swinging her pack onto her shoulder.

“We’ve got a dead Petty Officer outside some club called the Pink Pussy Cat.”

“Oh! I know where that is,” Tony spoke up. “I’ll drive. I know the best-“

“No, I’ll drive,” Gibbs interrupted.

With an odd look on her face, Ziva nodded once. “Of course. I don’t want to make McGee ill with my driving.” Gibbs frowned again. Ziva usually commented on Tony’s ‘delicate’ stomach, not McGee’s. “Though in my defense, I have attempted to slow down and be a little less, how would you say, reckless?”

“Yeah right,” Tony said, a half step behind Gibbs on their way to the elevator. “You still go 60 on the wrong side of the road.” Gibbs snorted just as the elevator door dinged open. So, he did not think the younger woman heard him.

---

“So what have we got Duck?” Gibbs asked as the doors to autopsy slid closed behind him?

“Well, I’d say our young Petty Officer put up a fight. See the bruising on her knuckles,” Ducky gently lifted Marissa Gentry’s hand up so Gibbs could see what he was talking about. “Also there was blood underneath her fingers nails. Abby is running it for analysis now. If I had to guess, from looking at her other injuries, she tried to hold off her attacker like this.” Ducky put his hands on Jethro’s shoulders. “And whoever the other person was, kicked at her side to knock her off.” Awkwardly, Ducky tried to kick at Gibbs’ side, his leg nowhere near high enough.

“Why don’t you just show me the body?” Gibbs asked with a smirk.

“Oh, that’s a much better idea, Jethro.” Ducky chuckled and let go of the younger man. Moving back to the body, he pointed to a large purple bruise on the Petty Officer’s right side. “She was hit pretty hard. My guess is the kick caused her to lean to the side, which let her attacker get in closer. And then he proceeded to…” Ducky slid his gloved pointer finger across his throat. “You can tell by the serrations that her attacker was facing her and cut her from left to right. She bled out quickly and as you were able to tell from the crime scene, dragged off to the side to be out of other club goers’ view.”

“Yes, the blood pattern on the ground and her clothes show that she was dragged,” Tony chimed in.

Gibbs hadn’t heard the autopsy doors.

“I bet it was the boyfriend. It’s always the boyfriend, or husband, or lover of some kind. Oh,” DiNozzo grinned. “Maybe a lesbian lover.”

“Why don’t you keep your theories to yourself?” Gibbs reprimanded with a glare. “Get some evidence first. And could you please clean yourself up?” He asked, annoyed that Tony still looked at wrinkled as he did several hours earlier. He knew his senior field agent kept extra clothes in his bag and desk. Even if he was pushing them to solve the case, DiNozzo could have taken a moment to change.

“I don’t know what makes you think you can talk that way Jethro?” Ducky said, hurt evident in his voice. “I know you’ve been stressed out recently. But really, taking it out on me… We’ve been friends a long time. But I won’t tolerate this, especially not in autopsy. Why don’t you go look for evidence with your team? If I find anything else, I’ll send Mr. Palmer up to you.”

“Yeah, sure Duck…” Gibbs replied, his legs already heading to the elevator. He had no idea why he’d been spoken to like that. He’d been talking to DiNozzo… As the elevator doors opened, Gibbs turned to look for the younger man. Maybe he’d taken the stairs? Gibbs hoped Tony looked more presentable by the time he got up to the bullpen.

---

“Uh, Boss?” Tim stood up at his desk

“Yeah, McGee?”

“I feel terrible for asking… but um,”

“Spit it out Probie,” Tony urged from his seat.

“But I was wondering when we were going to get out tonight? I’m hosting a Halloween Party-“

“At your tiny ass apartment?” Tony laughed. “Aren’t you afraid someone might find something on your new book? Why don’t you tell us about it Probie? Tell us how you used us as inspiration again.”

“And I need to get home to make sure everything is ready.” Tim continued like he didn’t hear DiNozzo’s remarks. For a moment Gibbs was impressed. Tim was getting better at ignoring the heckling that came with being DiNozzo’s probie.

“Halloween party?” Gibbs asked with a raised eyebrow. He moved to his chair and sat down.

“Yeah, Boss. Today’s Halloween. Remember we speculated that’s why the Petty Officer was in uniform? She’d worn it to the club for their Halloween Party?”

“Ooo, I wonder if Abby’s gonna dress up as Marilyn again. She looked awesome in that costume.”

Shrugging, Gibbs looked at his watch. It was a little after four. “Keep digging till 5 and then you can all get out of here.”

“Great, thanks Boss.”

“Yes. Thank you, Gibbs,” Ziva spoke up, her nose buried in a file.

Looking over at DiNozzo, who was lounging in his chair, Gibbs felt the same frustration he’d felt down with Ducky. “Are you even doing anything?” he growled out?

“Yes, I am looking through Marissa’s phone records. There was one number she called several times yesterday.” Ziva said with a frown.

“Why don’t you put it up on the screen Ziva, our lovely Israeli assassin? Is that how you’re going to dress up for Halloween? You can show people your knives…” Tony leered at the younger woman. But like McGee, Ziva just ignored him. Gibbs wondered if his three agents were having a fight or something.

“Well put it up, David.” Gibbs gestured to the screen. “Is there a reason you couldn’t put it up the first time you were asked.”

“That was the first time I was asked,” Ziva said quietly as she did what her boss asked. “The number is for Clementine Ross.”

“Clementine? What kind of name is Clementine?” Tony teased.

“The Petty Officer called her eleven times yesterday. Four of those times are right before she entered the Pink Pussy Cat and two more times after she’d gone in.” A photo of a young blond woman came up and DiNozzo let out a whistle. “Going through the records, you can see Marissa called Miss Ross several times every day.”

“I told you- lesbian lover!” Tony exclaimed.

“Will you shut up!” Gibbs slammed his hands down on his desk, glaring at Tony who had put his feet up on his desk.

“I didn’t say anything,” Abby cut in, her lower lip trembling. She was holding a file to her chest. “I just came up to tell you the blood under Petty Officer Gentry’s nails was female. But I couldn’t match it to anything.”

“Thank you, Abby.” McGee spoke up before Gibbs could.

“I say we get Miss Ross’ DNA. And I can think of a few ways to get a sample…” Tony smirked at the picture.

Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose. Tony was not normally so lewd at work. Turning to Abby, Gibbs apologized in his own way. “Thank you for bringing this up, Abby. I owe you a caf-pow.”

“I think two,” Abby said with a small smile.

“Don’t push it,” Jethro growled back, which caused her smile to grow.

“Ziva, McGee-“ Gibbs cut off. He’d told them he would let them out early. “Get out of here and we can get Miss Ross’ DNA tomorrow. First thing…” he threatened as his team members gathered their things.

“Yes, Boss. Thank you, Boss,” Tim said at the same time as Ziva said, “Have a good night, Gibbs.”

Leaning over his desk, Abby reached over to give Jethro a kiss on the cheek. “Two caf-pows in the morning and Happy Halloween, Bossman.” Then she sauntered off in her black platform boots.

Gibbs rolled his eyes as she walked away and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t like leaving a case in the middle. But it was a holiday and the team… everyone was still getting their bearings after Dearing’s attack. A night off would do more good then forcing them to continue. Taking a moment to glance at DiNozzo’s desk, he saw the stapler and report were still there. Tony had done nothing all day… Frustrated, Jethro let out a sigh. Something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Deciding there wasn’t anything that needed to be done at that moment, Gibbs followed his order to leave the Navy Yard.

---

Even though he never opened the door for trick-or-treaters, Gibbs put some candy in a bowl and placed it on his porch. No kid would dare egg his house, but putting something out was still smarter than nothing. Grabbing a beer out of his fridge, he shrugged off his jacket, placing it on a kitchen chair. Not particularly hungry, Gibbs headed down to basement, eager to get some wood in his hands.

It didn’t take long to get lost in the hum of sanding.

“What are you working on, Boss?” Tony’s voice broke through the calm that had settled around him.

“You’ll see it when it’s done,” Gibbs replied, not looking up from his work. Occasionally he could hear children outside screaming and cheering for candy. But he’d not heard his front door open.

“Will I, Boss? You know, I’m not too sure…”

That got Gibbs to look up. “You goin’ somewhere, DiNozzo?”

“Not going, no… I’m already gone…”

Jethro put down his hand tools and shifted so his whole body was facing the younger man. Tony still looked as disheveled as when he first came into work. Hadn’t he been asked to change? “What are you talking about, Tony?”

“You know… I’ve been coming to work everyday for weeks. But today was the first time you could see me.”

“I always see you, DiNozzo. With how you act, it’s hard to miss you.”

Tony let out a laugh and sank down on the basement stairs. “Yeah, and I’ve been getting worse. Sorry about that comment about Miss Ross. I crossed the line… it would be so nice to get a head slap right now.”

“Don’t tempt me, DiNozzo…”

Tony laughed again and put his head in his hands. For several moments neither man moved, Gibbs confused on his stool, Tony morose on the stairs. “I think it’s time we both let go, Boss. I can’t keep doing this and if you can’t see me tomorrow… Please, I can’t do it again.”

Gibbs stood up from his stool. At the same time Tony got up from the bottom step and that’s when Jethro noticed it. The side of Tony’s shirt was crimson with blood. It was so bright against the white fabric that Gibbs couldn’t figure out how he’d not seen it earlier. Starting towards the younger man, hand out ready to catch him should he falter, Gibbs said, “Jeeze, Tony, why didn’t you say anything.”

“There wasn’t anything to say… We both know I don’t survive this.”

A flash in the back of his mind showed Tony in the same dusty suit. Ziva, with a gash on her forehead, was a half-step away and a beam that had crashed through the elevator ceiling was crushing Tony’s side and leg. Moving forward in time, Gibbs remembered the funeral. Senior actually made it to the wake, his red eyes showed he cared even if he hadn’t bothered to arrive on time. Soon enough someone had packed up Tony’s things from his desk.

Tony’s Mighty Mouse stapler hadn’t really been there that morning.

As Tony continued to bleed out, his right leg was no longer able to hold him up and he tilted heavily to the side. Immediately, Gibbs’ hands went out-

Both men fell to the ground. Gibbs moved so that he could cradle Tony to him. Vaguely, he remembered doing this once before.

“I really like being in your arms, Boss.”

Gibbs snorted and said, “You’re such a flirt. Your dying breath-“

“Not dying, Boss. Already dead.”

“Don’t you think, as you’re bleeding all over my floor, you could call me Jethro?”

“Uh, sure, Boss. We, can try it out, Jethro… Jethro… I like it,” Tony whispered and started to shiver. “Too bad it took my dying for me to get to use your first name. Well to you… You know what I mean. And it’s your middle name, not really your first name. But really what kind of name is Leroy?”

“You’re babbling, DiNozzo.” Gibbs tightened his hold on his senior field agent. “You’re going to be fine…” he murmured into Tony’s hair.

“That’s what you said last time…”

“Yeah? What else did I say?”

“You said, ‘You’re going to be fine. The paramedics are almost here. They’ll patch you right up and you’ll be back in the field in no time. The plague didn’t take you and neither is Dearing… You’re going to be fine Tony. You have to be. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you like-‘”

“I’ve lost everyone else. I lost Shannon and Kelly. Jenny’s gone too. I can’t lose another agent like we lost Kate. I can’t lose you, Tony. Please, don’t leave me.” Gibbs was back in the ruined elevator, ignoring Ziva at his side. The air was thick with dust and smoke, making it difficult to breath. He could feel Tony’s breath slow down, to be almost nonexistent. “We’re supposed to have more time. You, you’re especially supposed to have more time. You’re so full of life, bright- you make me want to do better. Please, Tony, open your eyes.” Gibbs dropped his head, so that his forehead touched DiNozzo’s. “Please don’t go…”

“I love you, Boss… Jethro.”

And just like that, they were back in the basement. Even though he’d been shivering in Jethro’s arms, Tony’s forehead was wet with sweat. Gibbs wiped some of it away and pushed Tony’s hair back from his face.

“I didn’t get to tell you that time. I wanted to. But for a functional mute, you sure had a lot to say.”

“Stop making jokes, Tony.” After a pause Gibbs said, “I love you too.”

“Really?” Tony asked surprised. “Love me in the family sense or the you want me in your bed sense?”

“Both.”

“Huh, you’d better not be lying. Cause you know, Boss, just cause I’m dead, doesn’t mean I can’t get my heart broken.”

“Jeeze, Tony. I’m not lying.” Jethro leaned down so he could kiss Tony’s forehead. “You’re my family – have been since you joined NCIS. And I would have liked for you to warm my bed…”

“I’m pretty sure you meant to kiss me here,” Tony said, gesturing to his lips.

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs did as Tony asked. They kissed slowly, learning the feel of each other’s mouths. Even though Tony was sprawled across Gibbs, he began to feel lighter in his arms, so, Jethro held on tight. He didn’t ever want to let go. “Please don’t go,” he whispered as he pulled back from the kiss.

“I’d stay if I could… believe me, I would.” But Tony’s voice sounded distant and muffled, like bad cell reception.

His arms were empty, the blood that had seeped onto the floor gone. Gibbs felt wetness on his face and realized he was crying. Even when Tony had died in the elevator, he hadn’t cried. But now he was finally mourning his loss.

Even though it wasn’t late, Jethro headed up to his room. His whole body hurt from sitting on his cold basement floor. At the same time he felt numb and lost. Stepping out of his shoes, Gibbs pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. He could tidy up some other time. He didn’t bother taking off his undershirt or pants. Instead, he just fumbled with his belt before he fell into bed. He pulled his pillow to his face and howled out his grief. Eventually he fell into a dreamless sleep, knowing that was a Halloween he wasn’t going to forget.

---

“Tim, you and Hersher go around back.”

“Sure, Boss,” McGee replied, already urging his probie to follow him. Lionel Hersher had been with the team for about eight months. Even though he was straight out of training, he’d already shown his mettle by dealing with Tim’s teasing and Gibbs’ orders.

Gibbs waited at the front door, gun in hand, counting. He waited until he was sure his team was in place before kicking in the front door. He would have like to have Ziva with him, on his six, but she was on protection detail with the suspect’s wife and son. He heard the back door splinter as McGee entered the house.

A second too late he saw the man on the stairs.

“Boss! Boss, you ok?” Hersher came into view while McGee handcuffed the suspect on the background. “Boss?”

Gibbs looked up at his newest agent and wondered when he’d gotten so tall. Oh, no… not tall, he was on the floor.

“How you doin’ there cowboy?” a different voice asked him.

“Tony…” Gibbs smiled up at his former senior field agent. Tim had moved into the position gracefully, but he’d had big shoes to fill.

“No, Boss. It’s Lionel.” McGee put his hands on Hersher’s shoulders and shook his head. Tony wasn’t in the room with them; he’d not been on a case in a long time. If Gibbs was seeing him, Tim knew an ambulance wouldn’t make it in time. Slowly, Lionel stood. He was confused and didn’t understand why McGee wasn’t doing anything. As he stepped back he pulled out his phone and called for help.

Once, Hersher was out of the way, Tim crouched down next to Gibbs. “You’re going to be fine, Boss,” he whispered into the older man’s ear. He had no idea he was echoing the same words Gibbs had once whispered to DiNozzo when the end was near. And now he had no idea if his boss even heard him.

“What are you doing here Tony?”

“What do you think I’m doing here? I’m trick-or-treating. It is Halloween after all and I heard this place had a good stash.”

“Halloween?” Gibbs chuckled. “Didn’t I see you last Halloween?”

“Yeah, you did Gibbs. You saw me last year and the year before that. And the year before that we went to that party Abby was hosting, remember? I went as Indiana Jones. I was very dashing, if I might add. You promised our resident goth you would go and went as an NCIS agent. Very original Boss,” Tony teased. “And you were there, what, five minutes?”

“I was there for 10 minutes, DiNozzo. Get your facts straight.”

“Of course, Boss.”

“Jethro. You’re supposed to call me Jethro.”

Still, kneeling next to Gibbs, Tim balked at the idea of calling his Boss by his first name. The two men had been close when Tony was alive... maybe closer than Tim had realized.

“Of course, Jethro,” Tony grinned when he said the older man’s name. “So, Jethro, would you like to come trick-or-treating with me?”

“I haven’t done that since I was a kid. And I don’t eat as many sweets as you.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

Using all his strength Gibbs reached up for Tony. “I’ll go wherever you go, Tony.”

With a strong grasp, Tony pulled Jethro off the floor. “Love you, Boss.”

“Love you too, Tony.” Gibbs smiled with his last breath. “Happy Halloween.”

Comments are love :) HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Fight - an NCIS fanfic

blumvale — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 01:09:15 GMT

Title: Fight
Word Count: almost 3,300
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo (unrequited), DiNozzo/McGee(unrequited)
Summary - We've got a love triangle here. Tim loves Tony who loves Gibbs. Who's gonna end up with who? Only time will tell. (Well and me if you ask - I know where this story is going.)
Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form one NCIS or make a profit from this story. It'd be nice if I did but I don't. ::major sad face::

Tim franticly hit the keys of his typewriter. His, known by anything other than ‘writer’s block,’ block finally seemed to be lifted and the words came easily to him. He did not dwell on what made that day different. He knew if he started to stew, to go over everything he’d said and done, not only would his sequel never get finished, but also he’d end up turning in his badge and gun in the morning. And Gibbs’ had said if he ever tried a stunt like that again, he wouldn’t get them back. So Tim wrote. He wrote and wrote and even when his clock chimed that it was two a.m., he kept going. Sure, he was going to be exhausted when he had to go to work at 7, but overall, it was worth it.

‘It was worth it…’ he told himself again.

It was well past three when Tim thought he heard a knock on his door. He waited a moment, fingers settled in eager pause over the keys, before he heard the soft tap tap a second time. If he had been in his bedroom, he never would have heard it. Tim slid his chair back away from his desk and got up. Slowly he headed to the door, different scenarios running through his head. It was Gibbs, he was sure, even if some part of his brain niggled that his boss had never knocked that lightly in his life. Gibbs had come to kill him, screw just transferring the younger man off the team or kicking him out of NCIS and blackballing him away from the other federal organizations. No, he had come to kill Tim. And he wouldn’t even have to enlist Abby to help hide the body. Gibbs could get away with murder – Tim was pretty sure he had in the past.

Leaning forward, Tim peered through the peephole.

Earlier that evening

Tim pulled up to Gibbs’ house but didn’t immediately turn off his car or exit it. Instead he left the motor running and listed to the radio for several minutes. It was a little after six-pm, an early night considering how wacky his work schedule could be. Abby had invited Tim to dinner but he had declined, deciding it was now or never to talk to Gibbs. With a sigh, he leaned forward in his seat and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. He could do this; he hadn’t been with NCIS all these years without growing a tiny backbone. Tim was surprised that his hands weren’t shaking when he shut off the ignition and pulled his keys out. Slowly he got out of the car and shut the door. Even slower he made his way up to Gibb’s front porch. Not bothering to knock, as everyone and their mother knew the former, ‘there’s no such thing as a former,’ marine never locked his door, Tim went inside.

When he didn’t see Gibbs in the living room, Tim moved through in to the kitchen. There was his boss, sitting at the table, with a steak and potatoes on his plate and a beer in his hand.

“Hi, Boss,” Tim said, proud his voice didn’t stutter like it had when he first came to work for one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

“McGee,” Gibbs responded with a small nod of his head.

Tim hesitated for a split second before moving forward and sitting across from Gibbs. “I don’t mean to interrupt your dinner-“

“Then don’t, McGee.”

“But I wanted to talk to you about Tony,” Tim finished as though he’d not been interrupted.

Gibbs took a long draw of his beer, his gaze darkening. With the pocketknife he always had on hand, he cut a piece of his rib-eye and popped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly and Tim resisted the urge to shift in his seat, eying the blade warily. It wouldn’t be hard for his boss to lean across the table and stab him once Tim said everything he’d come to say. After Gibbs finally swallowed, he asked, “What about Tony?”

“Well, um,” ‘Damn!’ Tim internally cursed – he’d planned this. “Tony… Tony deserves to be happy. He’s a good man and he deserves so much. He’s had enough shit to last several lifetimes but he doesn’t let it take him down - he’s better than all of us… Tony should have someone to wake up next to; someone who will take care of him. He should have someone who loves him, makes him the center of their world. And he –“ Tim swallowed as he scrambled for the words. “He’s never going to find that so long as he’s wrapped up in you.”

Gibbs took another gulp of his beer and when he put the bottle down, it was empty. Pushing his chair away from the table, Gibbs got up and strode over to his refrigerator. He opened it and pulled out two beers. He turned to show McGee his choice and the younger man held up a hand.

“No, thanks.” Tim’s voice weakened at the unexpected offer. But he didn’t think drinking would help the situation.

Gibbs put the second beer back in the fridge before jamming his bottle against the counter, popping the top off. Then he moved back to the table and sat back down.

“Tony loves you Boss.”

“And you love him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, Boss, I do.” He took a deep breath. “When I started working for you, I was terrified.” Gibbs snorted at that, obviously remembering the scared little Probie McGee had been. Tim found it hard to meet his boss’ eyes, just like he had in the beginning. “I wasn’t scared of the job – it’s what I was trained to do. And I am a smart guy; I knew I’d learn how be the best agent I could be. But I was still terrified of letting you down. You know… you’re an important person in our lives Boss… you’re more than just the leader of the MCRT. You’re… you’re Gibbs.” Gibbs snorted again, but there really was no better way to express what he meant.

“But,” Tim looked up from his hands. “I’ve come to realize that I’ve let down someone more important than you… me. By letting things continue as they have, by not fighting for him, I’ve let myself down. And I can’t do that anymore. I love him. I love Tony, and he needs-”

“And what makes you think I can’t give him what he needs?”

“Well you haven’t yet,” Tim grumbled back. Tim straightened under Gibbs’ stare. “You haven’t yet. You’ve had years and you’ve done nothing.” He was glad his hands were in his lap so that Gibbs couldn’t see how his fists were clenched. “Tony would do anything for you; he’s gone to hell and back for you. And you… you just eat it up, your loyal St. Bernard.”

Gibbs opened his mouth to say something but Tim continued. “The only time I thought maybe I was wrong, maybe you saw Tony as something more than your lap dog, was when he was sick with the plague. You fought for him then. And I, I thought maybe he meant more to you than just your second in command. You know he told me, how you ordered him to not die. He came by my apartment once after Kate…” McGee trailed off for a second. “He told me what you’d said and how that basically gave him the will to survive; he’d never disobey you... Then over a pack of beer he told me he wished things had been different, because nothing had changed. Kate was gone, and he wished you hadn’t given him reason to hope. I’m not sure how much of that conversation he remembers but uh- that was ages ago, Boss. You had your chance and you passed on it. It’s time to let him go,” Tim urged.

“I’ve never given Tony a reason to think we could be anything more than friends. Rule 12-“

“Screw Rule 12!” Tim spat out. He didn’t want to hear about Gibbs’ rules. “Rule 12 is a piss poor excuse and you know it. This all comes down to the fact that you don’t want him. So you need to tell him that. You need to let him go.”

“So he can be with you.” Gibbs said with narrowed eyes.

“No.” Tim shook his head. “So he can be with someone who will do a better job than you did at knowing how lucky they are to have him at all.”

“But you love him.”

“I do. And if he were to come to me, wanted to try, I would say yes in a heartbeat. But he see’s me as the Probie and I don’t know if that will ever change or be enough. I love him. And seeing him happy, really happy, not this front he puts up all the time, that’ll be enough.”

“Thought you were gonna fight for him McGee.”

“I’m here; I am.” Tim forced his hands to relax and rubbed his sweaty palms against his thighs. “I’m fighting for Tony, not for he and I to be together. That’s a whole ‘nother battle that you’re not really involved in.” ‘And one that may never come to pass if Tony can’t give you up, Boss.’ Tim didn’t voice the last part but he was sure Gibbs’ gut heard him anyway.

“I think it may be time for you to go, Tim.” Gibbs said, surprising McGee with the use of his first name. Gibbs stood, his plate clean of food, his second beer bottle empty. Then he headed to the sink and put his plate down before rinsing it off. He left his pocketknife open on the table, the blade pointed directly at the Junior Agent.

“Sure, Boss.” Tim slid his chair back and stood. “See you at work.” Then, following the path he’d taken inside, Tim headed back out to his car.

Back to Present

Leaning forward, Tim peered through the peephole.

“Let me in, Probie. It’s late and I need a couch to crash on. You do have a couch in there, don’t you?” Tony asked through the door. Luckily he wasn’t too loud, so Tim didn’t think any of his neighbors would come out and complain. The guy from upstairs yelled enough when Tim used his paper shredder - who knew what he’d say with a visitor in the middle of the night? “I don’t really remember from the last time I was here.”

“That’s cause you got drunk last time you were here,” Tim said as he opened the door and ushered the older man inside. He shut the door as quietly as he could.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony moved past Tim to lean against the wall. “You’re right. Well, don’t worry, Timmy,” Tony reached out a hand and awkwardly patted Tim’s cheek. “I won’t be getting drunk here…” he hiccupped. “Cause I’m already drunk.”

“Yeah.” Tim wrinkled his nose. “I can smell that.” Tony smelled as though he’d bathed in spirits at whatever bar he’d come from. “You walk here, Tony?” DiNozzo never drove drunk.

“Nope,” Tony patted McGee again before turning away and heading further into the apartment. “Took a taxi. The bar- the bar was closer to the Boss’ but I couldn’t really go there…” McGee could see Tony’s eyes swimming in their sockets, reminding him of Tony’s most recent concussion. So Tim put an arm around the other man’s waist to help him navigate around. He didn’t need Tony bumping into anything because the last thing DiNozzo needed was more bruises and Tim had some expensive things in his home.

“And I didn’t have enough cash to get back to my place.” Tony hiccupped again and then frowned. “I think I gave the bartender a really good tip. But he wouldn’t let me stay past closing. But he did-“

Tim helped Tony sit down, pausing Tony’s explanation for a moment.

“Uh,” Tony said after he was comfortable. “He…”

“Called you a cab?”

“Yeah! How’d you guess Probie?”

“I think it was my detective skills.”

“Yeah, well you learned from the best.” Tony leaned back and rested his head against the back of the couch.

“That I did Tony.” Tim smiled down at DiNozzo before going and getting a spare blanket and pillow. He handed Tony the pillow and chuckled softly when it was pounded into submission before being allowed to have Tony’s crown rest on it. Tim put the blanket on the armrest before kneeling and helping Tony out of his shoes and socks. He put them off to the side so they could be found easily in the morning. “Come on, put your legs up. You’ll be more comfortable.” When DiNozzo didn’t move, Tim forced the older man’s legs up on the couch. Then he opened his blanket and draped it over drunk man. “That ok?” he questioned.

Tony nodded his head. But it may have been a nonverbal answer or his trying to find the perfect spot on the pillow.

Tim stood there for a moment before he went back to his desk. Inside a drawer, he pulled out a bottle of Aleve. Then he went to the kitchen and got a glass of water. He left both things on the side table next to the couch. He was certain Tony would need them in the morning. He glanced over at his clock and groaned. It was 4, meaning Tim’s alarm clock was going to go off in an hour and a half, leaving him enough time to run, shower, eat some breakfast and maybe stop for a coffee before getting to work.

It seemed silly to try and get some sleep…

Tony’s eyes were closed. But, Tim noticed, his rest did not look peaceful. Tony’s mouth was scrunched up in a tight frown and he had purple bags forming under his eyes. With a mind of its own, Tim’s hand jetted out and ran through Tony’s hair. He thought maybe the touch would help the older man relax and sleep better. Instead Tony’s eyes shot open and Tim’s hand instantly stilled.

“Uh, sorry,” Tim mumbled, pulling his hand back. He gave DiNozzo a small smile before he forced himself to turn awa. Maybe he would try and lie down.

“He doesn’t want me.” Tony’s words were muffled by his pillow but Tim heard them anyway and turned back. He didn’t need to ask who Tony was talking about. “He called me and I was stupid and went over. Why’d I go over, McGee?” Tim found his feet stuck to the floor. He couldn’t move away from the pain he’d caused. But he’d gone to Gibbs because Tony was already in pain, even if he seemed numb to it. “He told me he saw me as a son… a son.” Tony spat the words with more venom than Tim thought possible. “I already have a father… He may leave things to be desired but I don’t need another one. A son.” Tony sighed. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, I knew something was off the second he called. You know, since it wasn’t work related… But I- I was hoping for something else. I don’t mean to dump this all on you Tim but I, uh-“ Tony broke off, looking unsure.

“Yeah, I know.” Tim grabbed his desk chair so that he could sit down. He suddenly felt exhausted, his legs wobbly, unable to hold him up. But he knew he couldn’t feel as bad as DiNozzo.

“You do?” Tony’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“Yeah.” Tim reached a hand out and laid it on Tony’s calf. “I don’t think anyone else does…” It was hard for him to be the friend Tony needed when all Tim wanted to do was lean over and kiss the older man until Gibbs was ‘Gibbs who?’

“Well obviously bossman knew. A son,” Tony muttered again. “He and I don’t look anything alike…” he tried to joke but his laugh was hollow. “Why couldn’t he see me? Why couldn’t he see me as something more, Tim?”

For the second time DiNozzo used McGee’s first name without a hint of teasing and Tim found he hated it. He’d ached for so long to hear his name and now that he did, with such grief attached to it, it made his stomach roll. If this was a part of his novel, Tim thought, it would be the perfect time to make a move. He could tell Tony how he saw him and ask him to give him a chance. But it wasn’t a story so Tim said, “He’s blind. He’ll always be caught up with Shannon and Kelly and there’s nothing you could do or be that would change that.”

“I love him, McGee.” Tony reached up and rubbed his eyes. The bags underneath were getting more pronounced as time went on.

“And he loves you. I’m sorry it’s not the same way.” And Tim really was sorry. Because if Gibbs had gotten his head out of his ass and loved Tony the way he deserved, well then Tim would have stood back and given his blessing. “But you’re going to find someone.” He patted Tony leg once before pulling his hand back to his lap. It didn’t seem right to keep touching the older man.

“Rrhhh-“ Tony groaned. He closed his eyes again and Tim felt he could breathe easier without DiNozzo’s gaze on him. “My leg’s cold.”

“No it’s not, you big baby. You have a blanket.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to me,” Tony whined. “I just got my heart trampled on.”

“Yeah.” Tim’s voice softened. “You did… You’re gonna be ok, Tony. You will. It doesn’t seem that way right now, but you will get past this.”

“How am I supposed to face him at work?”

“That I can’t tell you. But I do recommend taking today off. If you ever get to sleep, you’re gonna wake with a killer hangover.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow… tomorrow you go undercover. It’s going to be a long-term assignment. Your cover is,” Tim paused as he tried to find the right words. “Just Tony. You’re a single guy and you’re ok with that. You’re comfortable with waiting around until the right person comes along. And sometimes when you’re not so comfortable you eat candy bars and take out your frustration on a punching bag at the gym. I trust you can handle this assignment. We both know you’re the best with undercover work.”

“Emphasis on the under covers,” Tony teased as he pulled Tim’s blanket up to his shoulder.

“See, you sound like you’re getting into character already.” Tim stood up and stretched. He moved his chair back to his desk.

“How long is this assignment, did you say?” Tony’s teasing tone was replaced with something else, something much more vulnerable.

“As long as you need.” Tim walked back to the couch. He felt like a mother hen as he fiddled with the blanket, so it lay just so. “As long as you need, Tony.”

“Thanks, Probie.”

“Anytime.” Tony didn’t respond, his face finally more relaxed in sleep. “Really, anytime; I’m here for you.” Tim touched the blanket again, more for the excuse to touch the older man, than to fix it’s arrangement. He leaned over and whispered, “Sweet dreams,” into Tony’s ear. Then Tim headed into his bedroom. He had less than an hour until his alarm was set to go off but at least his bed would welcome him, unlike the man in the other room. Collapsing onto his bed, Tim closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

blumvale — Thu, 07 Jun 2012 07:22:08 GMT

guess it fits for me

you are darkgray
#A9A9A9

Your dominant hue is red... you are passionate, energetic, and unafraid of life's changes. You're all about getting out and trying something new, even if it means taking risks that other people would be afraid of. Hey, if they're afraid and you're not, more power to you, right?

Your saturation level is very low - you have better things to do than jump headfirst into every little project. You make sure your actions are going to really accomplish something before you start because you hate wasting energy making everyone else think you're working.

Your outlook on life can be bright or dark, depending on the situation. You are flexible and see things objectively.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

blumvale — Wed, 30 May 2012 04:25:06 GMT

And now for a meme, stolen most recently from igrockspock

Make a list of fifteen characters first, and keep it to yourself for the moment. (That way you're not leading the questions asked to fit the characters.)

Ask your followers to ask you questions.

After your followers have asked enough questions, round them up and answer them using the fifteen characters you selected beforehand, then post them.

Questions might include things like:

'One, Nine and Fifteen move in together. Is this a really bad idea?'
'Under what circumstances might Five and Seven fall in love?'
'Which character on the list would you most want on your side in a zombie invasion?'

Prompt me, guys! I want to write some silly ficlets after this week stops being crazy.

My Child, Who Are You?

blumvale — Fri, 04 May 2012 05:27:14 GMT

Title: My Child, Who are You?
Author: blumvale
Beta: shudhavbinjamie
Prompt: You again? Harry and Draco finally get pregnant, only to find out that their unborn child carries the reincarnated (and aware of his/her most immediate past life) soul of <-insert formerly dead HP character name here->
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): none, I think
Epilogue compliant? nope, not a chance though I did take bits of the last book and threw them in. So characters who are already dead, stayed dead, no zombies in this story.
Word Count: 4,105
Summary: I think the prompt says it all. Harry and Draco are in the family way. They are nervous and excited to see who their offspring might be.
Author's Notes: I twisted this up a little in that everyone has some connection to a past life so that Harry and Draco’s child isn’t really an exception to the rule. And I twisted it so that Harry and Draco do not know who is being reincarnated until the child is a little older and able to talk about their memories.

“I wonder who your baby will be,” Ginny said with an odd smile as she gazed at Harry’s protruding stomach. “Considering all the losses we faced in the war with Voldemort, he or she could be almost anyone.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Harry asked as he put a protective arm around his stomach. Ginny had obviously gone off her rocker and was talking madness. Maybe he and Draco shouldn’t have asked her to be a godmother. They had already asked Ron and Hermione but hadn’t wanted the youngest Weasley to feel left out, so they had asked her as well. Would it be rude to take the offer back?

“Seriously, Harry,” Ginny put her hands on her hips. “I know you were raised as a muggle but you’ve been a wizard for over a decade now. Don’t you think it’s time you get all the facts in? You’ve got a baby on the way. Are you really going to leave the entire education of who they are up to Malfoy?”

“Hey!” came an indignant reply as Draco exited the floo. “Our child could do worse than to learn… what exactly will I be teaching our child?” Draco shrugged out of his cloak and placed it on the coat rack next to the fireplace. Then he pulled at his tie until it hung loosely around his neck before he walked over to where Harry sat and placed a kiss on the brunette’s cheek.
Harry shrugged his shoulders as he smiled up at his husband. “I’ve no idea. Ginny is talking nonsense.”

“I am not!” Ginny insisted, a frown on her face. “You have to have wondered who your child is going to be. Come on Draco, whose memories do you think the baby will have?”

When Draco got a thoughtful look on his face, Harry’s smile slipped away. “What-“ he started to ask when Draco said at the same time, “I’m kind of hoping for Severus. It would be nice to speak to him again. I bet you’re hoping for Sirius aren’t you?”

“Sirius? Sirius? Wait, are you two serious?”

Draco sat down on armrest of Harry’s chair. Looking patiently at his lover he explained, “Every person in the wizarding world has some memories of their past lives.” Reaching down, Draco took Harry’s hand in his own. “Usually they’re stronger in those born in wizard families as opposed to muggle families but they are always present. Oddly, I don’t remember my last life. Instead I remember the witch trials in Spain. And I don’t really remember them clearly. When I was a child I would have nightmares of burning alive. My mum explained to me that they were memories and they couldn’t hurt me now. That knowledge didn’t help me too much when I was small but it explains why I am fluent in Spanish today. What about you?” Draco looked at Ginny, expectedly.

“During one summer when I was about 5 or 6, Fred and George were playing,” Ginny’s expression turned sad at the mention of her lost brother. “And somehow they managed to create a swimming hole in the yard. Can’t begin to guess what they did but you know how children’s magic can do some strange things before starting school. Since the twins were older they had learned to swim but Mum hadn’t gotten around to teaching me yet. That didn’t stop me from jumping into the water right after the boys. Oh, Mum let out a dreadful shriek, convinced I was going to drown. But I swam like I had been doing it for years; way better than any 5 or 6 year old should be able to. For a while after that, whenever I looked at water I would get memories of swimming. I couldn’t tell you if it was part of my most recent life or what, but it is a part of who I am today.”

“You two are pulling my leg,” Harry said after a moment, still unconvinced.

“We’re really not, love,” Draco said, giving Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Some people have more knowledge about their past lives than others. Weaselette and I don’t even remember our past names. You really don’t have some unexplained memories floating around in that head of yours?”

“I think I had enough of going on in my head with Tom Riddle, let alone anyone else. “ Harry frowned. “How have I never heard about this?” Both Ginny and Draco shrugged. “And you think our baby could be someone from the war?”

Again Harry’s husband and friend shrugged their shoulders. Then Draco said, “There is a good probability but he or she could be like us and not really remember much of anything.”

“Or?” Harry questioned.

“Or…” Ginny paused. “It is possible to remember everything. To grow up with two sets of memories."

Harry felt his jaw drop. “Two sets of memories? That would drive someone insane!”

“That’s a possibility too…” Draco murmured.

----

Harry laid in bed, his feet propped up on a pillow. It felt nice to rest this way, as his ankles had become swollen during the day. He could not get his earlier conversation with Ginny and Draco out of his head. Awkwardly he tried to go through his own memories, trying to find some clue of something that didn’t quite fit. Draco and Ginny had insisted everyone remembered something. But nothing seemed out of place in Harry’s mind. Well he had been an exception to plenty of other rules, why not add this one to the list?

Coming out of the bathroom, Draco broke in, “Stop thinking so hard, you’re giving me a headache.”

Harry patted the empty space next to him, eager to have his husband lie with him. “Look, I can get how I may have missed this information before. We both know, I wasn’t always the best student,” Harry tried to joke even though the topic was serious. Sitting down on the bed, Draco snorted in agreement. “But I’m seven months along, how did we not discuss this sooner?”

“I don’t know,” Draco said honestly. “I’m not going to lie, I like the idea of Severus being back with us. I miss him. But… our child is still going to be his or her own person. He or she isn’t going to come out dressed in billowing black robes wearing a scowl. So, I guess I tried not to dwell on it. And there is nothing to say that our child will be a reincarnation of someone from the war.” Draco laid his hand on Harry’s stomach, happy to feel the flutter of his child under his touch. “They could be anyone, anything. And no mater what, they will be healthy, happy, and loved.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled in agreement. He could feel tears prickling in his eyes. Ever since he had realized he was pregnant, his emotions had been all over the place.

“So I was thinking…” Draco used his wand to shut the bedroom lights off. He put his wand on his nightstand before settling his body against Harry’s warmth. “For a boy what do you think of the name Scorpius or for a girl the name Bellona?”

Making a face, Harry, glad Draco had already shut the lights off, replied, “Oh yeah, those are nice names…”

----

“Bell-“ Harry chased after his energetic three year old, her legs chubby but fast. “Bellona come back here this instant!” Groaning, he continued after the little girl, cursing his husband in his mind. His little terror was always a little more behaved when Draco, Papa, was around. But he had abandoned them for paperwork and elbow brushing with some Ministry officials. Harry knew Draco would rather be at the Burrow with his family, but the extra work hours were sometimes unavoidable. Catching up to the blond haired monster, Harry grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into the air, ignoring her giggles and protests to be put back down. “Come on missy, we have people to see.” Still holding his little girl, Harry walked up to the front door and walked right in. He and Bell were expected and as family, he didn’t have to knock. Almost immediately, Bell was taken out of Harry’s arms, Molly and Arthur doting on their ‘granddaughter’ while greetings and hugs were extended to him.

“Hey, mate,” Ron greeted brightly, as he slapped Harry on the back. “’Bout time you got here.” Ron then proceeded to lead Harry into the living room where the rest of the family was waiting. He was met with a chorus of, “Hi, Harry.” Moving around the room, Harry said hello to everyone in return. Stopping a moment to kiss Hermione’s cheek, he placed a hand on her stomach. She was almost nine months pregnant and looked about ready to burst.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked.

“Not too bad,” Hermione grinned. “But ready to get this one out of here. Ready to be a mom.”

“Yeah, I understand.” Harry nodded, remembering how he felt the last few weeks before Bell was born. Before he could say anything else, hands were placed over Harry’s eyes and a voice said, “Guess who.”

“Um,” Harry said, trying to remember who was expected at the Burrow and who he had already seen. “Luna?”

“Good guess,” Luna’s hands moved from Harry’s eyes to his waist in an awkward hug. Harry turned so that he was facing the younger woman and hugged her in return.

“Good to see you Luna. How are Rolf and the twins?” Luna’s little boys were just a few months younger than Bell.

“Oh they’re great.” Luna got a dreamy smile on her face. “They should be here in a little while. The boys were playing outside looking for nargels and got a little dirty. So Rolf is cleaning them up and then they will be on their way. Where’s Bellona?”

“With Molly and Arthur, so somewhere around there.” Harry pointed towards the kitchen where he had last seen his daughter.

“I cannot wait to see her; I’ve not seen her in ages. Rolf and I really should have the three of you over for dinner sometime. We don’t spend enough time together.”

“You’re right, we don’t.” Harry smiled at Luna’s invitation. It sounded fun to him but he knew Draco would not agree. Draco respected Luna because she was Harry’s friend but they would never be close themselves. Suddenly, someone was pulling on Harry’s pant leg. Looking down, Harry’s smile grew as he reached to pick up his blond terror. Harry blew a raspberry on Bell’s cheek causing her to giggle. “Bell, you remember your Aunt Luna, don’t you?”

Bell reached out a chubby little hand to Luna. “You’re pretty,” she said sweetly. “Luna Lovegood.” Harry raised an eyebrow; he was unsure how Bellona knew Luna’s maiden name.

“Well it was Lovegood,” Luna replied as though she was talking to an adult instead of a three year old. “Now it is Scamander. Luna Scamander.”

“No,” Bell pouted. “Luna Evanna Lovegood.” Tears welled up in the toddler’s eyes. Still confused, Harry rubbed his daughter’s back, trying to keep her from having a tantrum. “Luna Evanna Lovegood,” Bell said again. Then she pointed to herself and said, “Lysandra.”

----

“Let me get this straight, you think our daughter was Loony Lovegood’s mother in her past life?” Draco asked as he paced the bedroom. The blond haired man had not gotten home in time to put his daughter to bed but his husband was up waiting for him.
“Yes, how many times do I have to say it? Bell pointed to herself and called herself Lysandra.”

“And we’re sure that is Luna’s mother’s name?”

Harry frowned. “Well, hmm, I forgot to make sure of that. Really, Draco?” Harry sighed. “I’m pretty sure Luna knows her mother’s name. She named one of her boys after her mother after all. Lysandra, Lysander. This means Bell’s memories are coming in.”

Draco groaned but stopped pacing. “Of all the people,” he muttered. “This is just great. Now we’re going to hear all about humdingers and all the other gibberish Loony’s always going on about.”

“Hey,” Harry didn’t like Draco using Luna’s unfortunate nickname. “You know she’s given most of that up. And she only talks about them now, in stories, to entertain the children. They hang on her every word.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Draco waved his husband off.

“And we have no idea what she remembers.” Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s behavior. “Maybe she just recognized Luna, and knows her name was Lysandra. Maybe that’s it.” Ever since his conversation three years earlier with Ginny and Draco, Harry had been afraid his child might have more than vague memories of her past life. It terrified him to think that his little girl might go insane from all the memories floating inside her head.

“I hope so,” Draco agreed.

----

Bellona looked at the fruit salad in front of her and frowned. She lifted her fork and picked absently at the fruit but did not eat any. Hermione looked at the six year old confused. “Sweetie, why aren’t you eating? It’s all your favorites.” Ron came in the dining room carrying a recently changed Rose. After setting the little girl in her booster seat he went to his own chair and dug into his dessert, unaware of what he’d walked in to.

“No,” Bell shook her head. “I don’t eat those,” she pointed to the blueberries in front of her.

“Yes, you do. I made this fruit salad the last time you were here and you ate all the blueberries. If I remember correctly you also ate your Papa’s.”

“No,” Bell said again. “I’m allergic.”

Hermione turned to look at Harry and Draco. The two men shrugged their shoulders, just as thrown as the witch was.

“Bellona, you’re not allergic. And even if you do not want the fruit salad, you must have a no thank you helping. Your Aunt Hermione prepared it for you,” Harry insisted. Bell was sometimes a picky eater so he and Draco did what they could to get her to eat. But they had never seen her avoid any fruit before.

“No!” Bell whined. She put her fork down and pushed the bowl away from her. “I’ll get sick.”

“What makes you think that?” Draco asked.

“I got sick last time. I got itchy. I remember.”

“You remember?” Draco got out of his chair knelt down next to his daughter. “When did this happen?”

Bellona scrunched up her face in concentration. “Um… I remember being itchy.” She started to scratch at her arms as if an allergic reaction was taking place even though she hadn’t had even a tiny bite of the offending fruit. Draco reached out and stopped her movement, not wanting her to hurt herself.

“Bellona, we’ve talked about this. Sometimes you have memories that get a little mixed up in your head. You’re not allergic to blueberries, sweetheart. Just try one.” Draco picked up Bell’s fork and speared one berry. Holding it up to his daughter, he asked, “You trust Papa, right?” Immediately Bell nodded her head. Of course she trusted her Papa and Daddy, they were wizards and could do anything. “Ok then, one bite. Aunt Hermione has medicine just in case, but I promise you won’t get itchy.”

Bellona looked at the fork and hesitantly leaned towards it, opening her mouth. Before she could change her mind, Draco popped the fork in Slowly the blond haired girl chewed and then her face lit up. “That’s yummy.”

Relieved, Draco laughed. Then he got up and moved back to his own seat. He smiled when he saw his daughter digging into her dessert with Ron-like gusto. A hand closed over his and Draco turned to his smiling husband. This wasn’t the first time, and they knew it wouldn’t be the last time, that Bellona had some confusion with Lysandra’s memories in her head. But they got better at dealing with it every time.

----

“Everyone in my family is rolling in their graves. A Malfoy in Ravenclaw.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?” Harry asked, Bell’s letter still in hand. Their daughter had done as she promised and owled them as soon as the Sorting Feast was over. And the letter had arrived just after breakfast.

“Ravenclaw…” Draco said again, as if this was the worst thing imaginable. Harry just rolled his eyes. “Well…” Draco said thoughtfully, “I guess it is better than Hufflepuff.” Harry chose to ignore that comment.

“It sounds like she and the twins are in the same house. That’s good that she’s got friends with her.” Harry put the letter down on the kitchen table before looking to his husband. But Draco was lost in his own little world because of his daughter’s house. “And she mentions that Neville grew a second head.” Still no response. “And after the sorting, Minerva took off all her clothes and sat in the nude for the rest of the meal.” Harry walked over to where Draco was standing and put his hand on his husband’s shoulder. “I’ve decided that I never want to have sex again,” he deadpanned.

That got him and Draco looked up startled. “What did you say?”

“The last bit wasn’t important. But I did say that Luna’s boys and Bell are in the same house.”

Slowly Draco nodded. “Guess I’m not really surprised. Not with any of it, I mean. Luna told us her mother was in Ravenclaw so I guess it makes sense that Bell’s there now.”

“Draco it doesn’t matter which House she’s in, so long as she makes friends and is happy. She is a bright girl. Reminds me of Hermione, always with her head in a book. It’s a good fit for her.”

Draco nodded again in agreement. “I never saw her going into Slytherin… but I did think she might follow you to Gryffindor.” Harry didn’t voice that he had thought the same thing. “You’re right though…”

“Aren’t I always?” Harry teased, before kissing Draco softly on his mouth. One kiss became two and then two became three. But before the touches could become anything else, the fireplace in the living room came to life and Luna stepped out of it.

“Hello, Harry, Draco,” Luna called as she headed out of the living room, in search of her friends. Harry felt Draco tense at the sound of Luna’s voice and mentally urged his husband to be good. “Ah, there you are,” Luna grinned. She sat down at the table, crossing her ankles. “Did you hear the good news?”

“Yes, yes we did.” Harry pointed to Bellona’s letter. “Ravenclaw.”

“Oh,” Luna clapped her hands suddenly, “Rolf and I were thrilled to hear it. Bell and the boys are good friends.”

“That they are.” Harry went to say more but Draco cut in.

“Guess you weren’t surprised by the sorting either, hmm?”

“Draco-“ Harry started but Luna just smiled serenely at the two men.

“Well I had no doubt Lorcan and Lysander would follow in my footsteps. They will make Ravenclaw proud.” Then the younger woman stood. “Bellona is not my mother,” she said firmly. Luna walked over and kissed Harry’s cheek. She did not even try to do the same with Draco. “I think I’ll just go home now. Rolf and I have to get used to having the house to ourselves. Goodbye.” And just as quickly as she came, Luna was gone.

----

“Neville, it’s good to see you mate.” Harry hugged his former housemate. “Where’s Hannah? I thought we we’re going to get to see her as well.”

“Yeah, you will. She’s just running a couple errands. She was supposed to be back before you two got here, but I guess something is keeping her. So how are you two? Doing alright, yeah?” Neville asked.

“Yeah Longbottom, we’re doing just fine.” Draco clapped Neville on the arm. It had taken little time to get used to a quiet home. The usual noise that Bell produced was missed but having the house to themselves was welcome.

“Good to hear. Hannah and I are fine as well, thanks for asking, even though you didn’t.” Neville grinned and the three men chuckled at the joke. “Let me get you a drink – firewhiskey Malfoy?”

“I wouldn’t say no to some.” Draco and Harry moved to the couch and sat down. A moment later Neville handed out a glass of firewhiskey and a butterbeer. Then he sat down himself, next to his friends, another butterbeer in his own hand.

“You know, it’s probably good Hannah’s not back yet. She gets sick of my talking about students.” Not wanting to beat around the bush, Neville continued, “Bell is very bright.” Harry and Draco both smiled at the compliment for their daughter. “But… she’s not really motivated. Much of the material… she already knows it.”

“Lysandra…” Draco muttered, his smile quickly turning to a frown.

“Exactly.” Neville had been in the know about Bellona’s past life since the gathering eight years ago at the Burrow. “She often seems bored in class. I’ve talked with some of the other professors and we try to give her different assignments and things to do. But like I said she’s quite bright. So even with what we’ve given her, it isn’t really pushing her. It’s too bad we couldn’t just move her up a year or two. I’ve seen her do spellwork that would make third or fourth years jealous.”

“Well Luna did say her mother was a talented witch and often experimented with her spellwork.”

“Yes,” Draco countered, “And isn’t that what led to her death?”

Taking in a frustrated breath, Harry said, “Thank you for telling us Neville. We appreciate your looking out for her.”

Neville smiled, a little pleased with himself. He and Hannah had no children as of yet so his friends and their children were his family. He had to look out for his own.

----

“Papa, why don’t you and Luna get along?”

Draco looked at the young woman in front of him. “What makes you think I don’t get along with Luna?” He turned to look at Harry who was standing nearby.

“Well you don’t smile as much when she’s around. Does she bother you?”

“No, love, she doesn’t bother me.”

Harry had to stifle a cough. Bell was smart enough to know that Draco was lying. “Ok if it’s not Luna, then it must be me. You don’t like that I remember who I was before.”

“Bell,” Harry stepped in. “You know that isn’t right. We love you no matter what.”

“Do you think I am blind Dad? When I was little you were both good at covering it. But every year it seems to get a little harder. You see Luna and…”

“Bellona, sweetheart… before you were born I had never heard that witches and wizards could have memories of their previous lives. And you, you remember so much. You know so much and I, we were scared. We wanted you to be you and we didn’t want anything to happen to you because of your memories. You sometimes became so confused when you were a child. We were afraid that the confusion might continue, might hurt you.”

“But it didn’t. I’m fine.” Bellona gestured to herself. “I’m here in front of you and I’m fine, really. So please… stop blaming Luna for something she had no say in. She didn’t make me like this.”

“We just want you to know who you are.”

“Of course, I know who I am.” Bell rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her fathers. “I’m your daughter. I’m Bellona Lily Potter-Malfoy. That’s who I will always be; your little girl. But,” she let go and steped back, “Part of me will always be Lysandra. I can’t escape that, much like you can’t escape your scar,” she looked at Harry. “And how you can’t escape the family name.” She turned her gaze to Draco. “Just embrace it Dad, Papa. I have.” Bellona shrugged her shoulders. “I am me.”

“When did she get to be so smart?” Draco asked a little later, after Bella had hugged them both again and then walked away to rejoin her friends who were technically her grandsons.

“I have no idea. But we’re lucky she is.” Harry slid his hand into Draco’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Best thing we ever did. Healthy – check. Happy – check. Loved –“

Draco turned to give Harry a kiss on his cheek. Then he whispered in his husband’s ear, “Double check.”

blumvale — Sun, 22 Apr 2012 16:55:07 GMT

Title: Are we ready?
Rating: PG
Pairing: DiNozzo/McGee
Genre: Established Relationship
Summary: A little one shot inspired by the season 5 episode Stakeout
Disclaimer: I don't own them ... and all errors are mine

“So, um, I was thinking…”

“Yeah?” a not really listening voice questioned. Between the chatter on the television and the constant clatter of typewriter keys, it was easy to get distracted by the hum of the room.

“Maybe, we’re not really ready to get a place of our own.”

“Yeah, that sounds-“ the typing stopped and the television was muted. “Wait, what did you say?”

“I said, maybe we aren’t ready to get a place of our own.”

“Why would you say that? We’ve been talking about moving in together for weeks. We lined up an appointment with that real estate lady for Tuesday. And now you’re having second thoughts.” A hand hesitantly reached out for another. “Why are you having second thoughts?”

“I was just thinking about the stakeout the other day. We were together for twelve hours shifts and ready to kill each other pretty quick.”

“True, but that was work,” said with a frown.

“Yeah, we work together. So what makes us think we can then go home together after a long day? Come on, we’d fight all the time just like we did on that stakeout…”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No!”

A relieved sigh.

“I just think, that maybe we’re rushing something.”

“Rushing? Rushing? Oh, you have got to be kidding me. We’ve been going out for over a year! And when you said you didn’t want to move in with me, I didn’t push. Instead over some time we agreed that finding a place of our own was the right move. That way neither of us felt like we were giving something up, or invading the other’s space.”

“I was there…”

“Good. I thought maybe that last concussion was messing with your brain. We’re ready for this.”

“Are you sure? It’s a big step. Maybe the reason we haven’t just shot each other in the bullpen is the time we spend apart. In our own homes.”

This time the sigh was more frustrated with a hand running through hair. A deep breath before, “I’m sure. I’m sure about moving in together and I am sure about us. Stakeouts just put everyone on edge. You know that, I know that. We’ve been fine with work and everything the past year and I don’t doubt we will be fine in the future. And we told the real estate lady that we wanted a two-bedroom place, so we won’t always be in each other’s hair.”

“Grace. Real estate lady’s name is Grace.”

“I was there.”

A breathy laugh. “Using my own words against me.”

“And should I be jealous of Grace?”

The soft sound of skin moving against fabric. “I think she is missing a key part of anatomy. But you, you fulfill that requirement just fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Oh way, way better than fine.” A long pause. “What if you change your mind? What if we move in together and you decide that living with me is terrible, that you don’t want me anymore?”

“What if you change your mind?” is the immediate counter.

“That will never happen. I’d never willingly give you up. Not for anything,” the last part is whispered.

“Then we have nothing to worry about. I feel the same way. I love you.” A tender kiss placed on the hairline. Another on eyelids. Then finally, on the mouth. “I love you DiNozzo.”

“Love you too McGoo. But the next time you get me breakfast you better make sure my eggs come the way I order them.”

“Sure, Tony. Sure…”

NCIS - My Little Candy Heart

blumvale — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 00:07:50 GMT

Title: My Little Candy Heart

For the 2012 valentine_tibbs
Characters/Pairings: DiNozzo/Gibbs
Rating: PG
Length: 1156

Fandom: NCIS
Summary: Just another Valentine’s Day in the neighborhood

I do not own anything related to NCIS and do not profit from this story!

All errors are mine!

Hearing the beep, beep, beep of his alarm, Tony stretched languidly in his bed. Even though it was the same time he got up every morning, he felt this wakeup call came too early. He hadn’t slept well the night before. Instead, he had spent most of the night worrying about what might come that morning. It was Valentine’s Day. And, while normally he had no reason to fear Cupid’s holiday, this year was different. This year was the first that he had Gibbs’ as his Valentine.

Tony was well aware the older man wasn’t big on showy displays of affection. But this hadn’t stopped Tony from ordering a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to Gibbs’ desk. (He had also arranged for a dozen black stemmed roses to be sent to Abby. But that was only because the young Goth was the only one who knew about his relationship with his boss.) Nervously, Tony ran a hand through his hair before swinging his legs to the side of his bed. Standing, he reminded himself that his name wasn’t on the card that was to arrive with the flowers. He had no doubt that Gibbs would know they were from him but he didn’t want any prying eyes sneaking a peak. He really hoped Gibbs liked the flowers. He really hoped Gibbs liked the flowers enough to ignore the scuttlebutt that was sure to follow.

Still agonizing over his gift decision, Tony showered, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. With unease in the pit of his stomach, he grabbed a piece of toast, got in his car, and headed to work. It was pure routine that got him to work on time.

Exiting the elevator, Tony could see the flowers had already arrived on Gibbs’ desk. The passing thought that maybe he could move them without the older man knowing was gone the second Tony saw his lover reading the card. “Guess someone’s got a secret admirer, huh Boss?” Tony forced the words out of his mouth; the teasing tone that came with them wasn’t as difficult.

“Looks like, DiNozzo.” Gibbs looked at Tony critically but didn’t say anything. Instead he put the card back in the flower bouquet before turning to work at his computer. While normally, Tony felt he could read the silver haired man pretty well, in that instance he couldn’t tell how Gibbs felt about his gift.

“Yes, it seems Gibbs got a gift for Valentine’s Day but you did not Tony,” Ziva smirked from desk. “No ex-girlfriend wanted to send you anything, hmm? That’s probably for the best, what with so many exes-“

“Yeah, I get it Zee-vah,” Tony rolled his eyes. Then, just as Tony was getting comfortable in his own chair, Gibbs’ phone rang.

“Gear up,” the older man’s words had Tony immediately on his feet. “We’ve got a dead Petty Officer.” Gibbs tossed keys at McGee with a curt, “Gas the truck.” When Gibbs passed his desk Tony grabbed his go bag. Then stealing one last look at the flowers he headed for the elevator.

“You with us DiNozzo?”

“Hmm?” Tony tried to ask. His lips felt heavy and unmoving. His mouth was dry. He tried to lick the roof of his mouth to scrounge up a little moisture and groaned when it didn’t help.

“Here, here, drink this.”

Tony felt a straw pressed to his mouth and drank greedily and happily when he realized water was available to him. “Th-“ he tried once he’d drank his fill and his mouth felt like it could actually move. “Thanks Boss.”

“No problem Tony.”

“So,” the younger man questioned after a moment of comfortable yet uncomfortable silence, “What happened?”

“Daniel Richard, Petty Officer Leesons’ boyfriend, hit you in the head with a two-by-four.” Tony felt his eyes go wide at the confession. “Could have been any one of us. He was waiting behind the back of the garage where we’d tracked him to. After he hit you, he tried to run but Ziva took him down. She and McGee took him to interrogation.”

“You didn’t go?” The words came out soft yet surprised. Tony couldn’t believe Gibbs’ had let a suspect go back to the yard without him. Looking up at his lover, Tony could tell Gibbs looked a little uneasy.

“Well yeah, Tony. I wanted to be here when you woke up.” Gibbs took the younger man’s hand in his own, his callous thumb rubbing along the smooth skin.

“I like when you hold my hand,” Tony whispered. He knew it was a sappy sentiment but wasn’t embarrassed when Gibbs tighten his hold just a hair.

“You know, I really loved those flowers you sent me this morning.”

“Yeah?” Tony tried not to sound too hopeful.

“Yeah Tony, I did. I’m not sure anyone’s ever sent me flowers before.”

“Good, I wanted them to be special.”

“They are,” Gibbs insisted.

Shifting in the bed, Tony tried to sit up. Almost immediately he settled back into the pillows as he vision swam before him and his stomach felt like it was flip flopping in his chest. Letting go of Gibbs’ hand, Tony bunched his hands into the soft blanket some nurse had put over him.

“Relax, Tony, relax. Breathe. You want some more water?” Gibbs asked but Tony shook his head no. The movement didn’t help his nausea but overall it was lessening. Both men were quite for a long moment until Tony’s breathing had returned to normal and his eyes could focus on his lover for more than a quick moment. “What a shitty way to spend Valentine’s Day,” Tony complained.

“Yeah it’s not the ideal location, not when I had plans for us tonight. But hey, you’re one step closer to winning ‘Most Injuries’ again this year.” Gibbs teased and Tony pouted. “So I don’t know if your stomach is up to it, but um,” Gibbs looked a little embarrassed. “When the doctor was first looking at you, when you were unconscious, I stopped by the gift shop and bought you something.”

“Yeah?” Tony questioned again. Gibbs nodded and pressed something into his hand. Looking down, Tony stared at the small box for a moment before he asked, “Conversation hearts? You got me conversation hearts?”

“If you don’t want them DiNozzo.” Gibbs’ voice was low and Tony immediately pulled the box out of the older man’s reach.

No, I do. I do,” Fumbling for a second, Tony got the box open and scattered some of the hearts on his blanket. He picked up one and said, “I like this one.” The small yellow heart had the words ‘wink wink’ in pink letters.

“Yeah well I like this one.” Gibbs reached forward and plucked a small purple heart off Tony’s lap. ‘Love You’ Was tattooed to it.

“You do?”

“Yeah Tony, I do. I love you.”

“Good because,” Tony passed Gibbs a heart that said, ‘I <3 You Too.’

blumvale — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 01:55:29 GMT

Hello all. So I realize it's a little late for me to be asking but I would love to send out some Christmas/Holiday cards. So I'm pretty sure I enabled screening for comments so if you want to receive a card, you can put your address and I'll get it to you as soon as possible. I love the holidays but I've never sent cards before. And I've seen other people say they want to send out cards which made me think to do it too. I think it's a great way to spread some holiday cheer! So yeah, that's it I guess. :) I hope to send some out. :)

Five-Minute Flirtations Master Post

blumvale — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 09:11:40 GMT

Five-Minute Flirtations 6/6

blumvale — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 08:58:28 GMT

Five-Minute Flirtations
Author: blumvale
Artist: cylin
Verse: XM:FC – AU
Word Count: 15,909
Characters/Pairings - Alex/Hank, (Raven/Janos mentioned)
Beta – the lovely, amazing, fantastic and every word in-between Mondays_eyes – thanks so much hun!!
Rating – PG-13

Summary: Raven convinces Hank to try speed dating. Initially, Hank is quite wary about the whole thing. Once at the bar, the first person he meets is Alex, the bartender. While Alex lends his ear to Hank’s dating woes, the two men grow closer until Hank realizes, maybe speed dating was the best idea Raven has ever had.

“Alison took me ice skating last night,” Hank said with a smile. He shifted on the bar stool until he was comfortable. He had arrived just after last call and the majority of other patrons were shuffling out when he walked in. It was awkward for Hank to arrive so late, but he was up and hadn’t wanted to stay in his apartment any longer. It was Saturday night and he didn’t have any commitments the next day, so he figured he had no reason to stay in. He would have just called Raven to fill her in on his date if he had thought she would be home. She had mentioned receiving a call from Janos earlier in the week, so Hank was fairly certain she was spending the weekend with him. Offhandedly, Hank wondered if he was going to get to meet the man who had caught Raven’s attention or if she was going to be done with him before Hank got the chance.

It didn’t surprise Hank that he’d headed to the Dublin Pub. After his first date with Alison, he’d gone to visit Alex to tell him about it. He liked hanging out with the bartender and it was nice to have a guy’s opinion on how things were going. “I was so nervous.” He continued, “I can’t even think of the last time I went ice skating. It was terrifying. I had to hold onto the wall almost the entire time and I was still slipping all over the place. And of course she’s skating circles around me.” Hank chuckled softly, remembering how Alison had tried to cajole him from the wall.

“You kiss her yet, bozo?” Alex asked, disregarding Hank’s awkwardness when it came to ice skating. He was cleaning glasses in the small sink behind the bar. Alex hadn’t even looked up when Hank had started talking. Before he had arrived, the music had been turned down low so Hank could easily hear the water sloshing in the sink. It reminded Hank of dinner at Alex’s and he felt himself blush slightly. Even after a couple dates with Alison, Hank couldn’t get that night out of his head.

“Uh-“ Hank blushed even brighter. He was happy Alex was focused on his task and not looking at him. Alex had asked Hank the same question after his first date with Alison. He had the same answer. “No, not yet. I think she wanted me to last night but… I’m not sure what stopped me.”

The confession got Alex to pause. He looked up at Hank with an odd expression on his face. “You really suck at this dating thing, don’t you?”

“Hey,” Hank said sullenly. “It was only our second date. Next time-“

“You know what,” Alex interrupted suddenly. His expression morphed into something Hank couldn’t quite place. “I don’t want to hear how you’re gonna kiss her next time. Forget I asked at all.” He slammed a glass down on the bar counter. Then ignoring the surprised look of a man at the other end of the bar, Alex poured himself a shot. “I really don’t want to know. I don’t want to know how dinner went or how it felt when you held her hand,” Alex sneered. He took the shot back and dumped the glass back into the sink. “I don’t care about any of it.”

Hank was momentarily stunned. He never expected Alex to react that way, especially since had patiently listed to Hanks misgivings about dating before.

“Ugh! Damnit. I need a smoke.” Alex slammed his hand against the bar, causing Hank to flinch. Hank didn’t know what was making his friend so upset. Alex turned to the cash register and printed out a check. Then he walked to the other end of the bar. “Time to close out your tab buddy,” The man glared at Alex but pulled his wallet out anyway. After he paid, the man didn’t linger. Once the man was out the door, Alex ducked underneath the bar's opening. He walked away from Hank and went to the back door. Instead of using a brick to keep the door open, Alex sagged against it, letting cold air sweep into the bar. From his pocket, Alex pulled out a cigarette and lighter.

Before he could light it, Hank spoke up. “Why do you even have those on you? I thought you were quitting.”

“What do you care?” Alex bit back angrily. He stared at the cigarette in his hands.

“I do care,” Hank insisted. “Scott told me you haven’t smoked since the first night I came by for speed dating. He’s really proud of you.” Hank got off his bar stool and headed towards the back door. “Come on back in. It’s a filthy habit and I don’t understand-“

“You don’t understand? Not of course you don’t understand. All those brains in your head, but this you can’t understand!” The door slammed shut with a loud bang when Alex stepped back into the bar. Moving into Hank’s personal space, Alex put his hand up and curled his fingers around the back of Hank’s neck. Alex’s fingers played with the short hairs there. Part of Hank knew that he should move back. Part of him knew that he should walk away from Alex, leave the bar and not go back. But the bigger part had his feet planted firmly on the ground. Looking down, Hank could feel Alex’s breath against his face. “You really are a bozo,” Then before Hank could say anything or frown at the nickname, Alex leaned forward and kissed him.

The hand on Hank’s neck tightened slightly as Alex moved even further into Hank’s space. Alex’s legs bumped Hank’s as he pressed his chest against the taller man. Not surprisingly, Alex tasted like whatever liquor he’d just imbibed. But he also tasted like something else that Hank couldn’t quite place. It was something spicy that he couldn’t get enough of. Unsure of where to put his hands, Hank awkwardly placed them on Alex’s hips. Surprisingly, he liked the feel of Alex’s stubble against his face.

But when Alex shyly probed Hank’s lips with his tongue, Hank pushed back from the other man. “I uh…. I-“ Hank stuttered. “I can’t do this. I have to go.” Alex didn’t try to stop Hank as he fled the bar.

---------------------------------------------------

“Well, I’m not going to say I told you so. But you know, I did tell you so.” Raven smiled softly at Hank. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You two can’t be friends, honey. He likes you. And if you’d just admit it to yourself, then you’d realize you like him too.”

“Raven, unless he is the most flat-chested woman in the world, Alex is a guy. And I’m not gay. I’m not attracted to guys.” Hank’s eyes darted to the teacher’s lounge door. School had just let out and he had forced Raven inside so that they could talk. He nervous someone might come in and didn’t want someone to overhear their conversation.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not attracted to guys, you’re attracted to him. Hank, I’ve never heard you go on about anyone the way you go on about Alex. He and his brother are all you talk about. Sure, you mention Alison here and there, but you don’t light up when you talk about her.”

“Raven, I’m a guy. I don’t light up.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Raven smiled at Hank like he was a child. He didn’t like it when she did that. “Yeah, you do. You so do.” She held up her hand. Pointing to her first finger, she counted off, her voice lower, trying to imitate Hank’s, “Alex is a great guy. He’s so funny. He has the best taste in movies, and music. When we had dinner, Alex didn’t mind that I push my cucumbers onto his plate. And he gave me his peppers in return. Oh, Alex is so cute and dreamy.”

“I most definitely never said that last one.”

“Okay, so I adlibbed a little.” Raven shrugged. “But I don’t doubt you thought it.” She pursed her lips and stared at Hank, daring him to say otherwise.

“I’m not admitting anything…” Hank muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, Raven wrapped her arms around Hank in a tight hug. “Look, I only met him for a couple minutes but by the way you go on about him, he must be a great guy. And that’s all I wanted for you, Hank. I wanted you to meet someone almost as awesome as I am.” Hank chuckled at that and rested his chin on Raven’s shoulder. “I just want you to be happy. And you’ve been way happier since you met him than I’ve seen since we started working together. I get that you’re scared, that being attracted to a guy is all new to you. But you can’t let this fear ruin something that could be wonderful.” Raven stepped out of the hug and looked Hank squarely in the eye. “It’s time to be brave.”

------------------------------------------------

Hank pulled at his lab coat and wished he’d worn something warmer. He was certain that it was the coldest Halloween ever. There was a decent line outside the Dublin Pub, causing Hank to frown. He really didn’t want to wait to get inside, sure that he would turn into a popsicle if he did. He was also fairly certain that if he waited too long, he would chicken out before getting to talk to Alex.

Luckily, Raven wasn’t one for waiting either. Pulling Hank’s arm, she walked right up to the guy at the door. Hank didn’t recognize him and figured he was only there since it was a holiday. Raven smiled sweetly up at the guy before touching his arm. “We’re friends of Alex’s. The bartender…” She purred. Then man frowned at Raven, but she just beamed back at him. Hank was sure he wasn’t going to let them in. Then, surprisingly, the guy stepped to the side, allowing for just enough room for Raven and Hank to snake by. Hank gave the guy a quick, ‘Thanks,” as he followed Raven inside.

Hank had never seen the bar so packed. So many people were inside; Hank felt like a sardine with just a smidge more room. The music was loud and people were dancing in any pocket of space they could find. Raven pulled on Hank’s arm to grab his attention. Then she turned and pointed at the bar. Hank looked to where she was pointing and saw Alex. He was wearing a blue and yellow uniform that had a disk in the center of his chest. Hank had no idea what he was supposed to be. Then before pushing him towards the bar, Raven stood on her tiptoes and kissed Hank on the cheek and wished him luck.

Stumbling through the crowd, Hank slowly made his way over to the bar. He saw Jono taking orders at the other end of the bar. The bulky man noticed Hank at about the same time and threw a towel at Alex to grab his attention. When Alex looked up and saw Hank, he frowned and turned away to help a woman dressed as Betty Boop. Hank continued making his way to the bar. Then he was forced to wedge himself between a zombie and a mermaid. He stood there for several minutes while Alex went to every other guest but him.

“Can we talk?” Hank asked when Alex finally stopped in front of him. “Please…” Hank tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“As you can see, I’m a little busy. I don’t have time for you.” Alex yelled back over the din of the crowd.

“Well then, make time,” Hank demanded. “We need to talk.”

“Are you kidding me? You come in here wanting to talk now, one of the busiest nights of the year?”

Alex turned away, but Hank reached out and grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Please, Alex…” he tried again. Sighing, Alex turned to Jono and held up his hand. Jono frowned but nodded before turning back to some monsters at the bar. A few people voiced their disapproval as Alex got out from behind the bar and headed towards the back door. Ignoring them, Hank followed. Ducking into the alley behind the bar, Hank shivered. It was freezing and Alex’s icy demeanor wasn’t helping.

“So?” Alex questioned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Hank paused awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Dude, I’m not some chick. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Yes, I did.” Alex opened his mouth but Hank didn’t give him a chance to say anything. “Look… I only came here for speed dating with Raven to get her off my back. I figured I’d meet some people, maybe go on a couple dates, and that would be enough. Raven would leave me alone and I could go back to focusing on work and that’s it. I never thought someone would manage to get under my skin… and I really never thought it would be you.” Hank stopped and sighed. Biting his lip, he tried to organize his thoughts. “We haven’t known each other that long, but the last couple weeks have been just awful.” Hank ran a hand through his hair. “You cannot even begin to guess how many times I’ve picked up my phone hoping for a text or something from you. And I started so many messages that I never sent. I would dial your number… “ Hank paused again. He groaned in frustration, wanting everything to come out right. “I don’t know how to do this, Alex,” He gestured to the space between them. “But I know I’ve never wanted someone so badly.”

Alex shuffled his feet before uncrossing his arms. When he just stared, Hank continued, “I”ve… I’ve never looked at guys before. And it freaked me out. I didn’t know how to react to this thing between us. And when you kissed me… I know running off was the wrong thing to do. And I’m sorry, I really am. But you know, since the first night when you bumped me coming in, I’d have to be blind not to see how cute you are.”

“I’m hot, bozo. Not cute.” Alex interjected.

“Yes, fine,” Hank took in a deep breath. “You’re hot – sex on a stick really. You’re hot to the point that when you lick your lips my brain shuts off.” Hank grimaced. He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. But he continued anyway. “And you’re cool, funny and a good brother. And I don’t know, you’re…”

“Well, you could tell me how smart I am. You could continue going on about how sexy I am and what that does to you. Or you could talk about how good a kisser I am.”

Some of the tension Hank had been carrying released when Alex teased him. “Yeah, you’re a great kisser. And I’m learning just a smidgen vain.” More tension relaxed when Alex laughed at the quip. “You told me I’m a planner. Well, I didn’t plan any of this. But please, please don’t end this before it even started.”

“So,” Alex took a step towards Hank. “What I’m hearing is, you want me.”

“Y-yes,” Hank squeaked when Alex moved into his personal space. After clearing his throat he tried again, “Yes, I do.”

“And cause I’m such a nice guy, I should give you a second chance, hmm?” Reaching up, Alex wrapped his arms around Hank’s neck.

“Well, I’ll shower you with compliments and not fight you when you call me bozo.”

“Hey, I just call ‘em like I see ‘em bozo.” Then Alex leaned up until he bumped noses with Hank. They stood there for several seconds, neither moving, just breathing the same air, before Hank tilted his head to kiss Alex. But Alex pulled back and smirked devilishly. “So we’re just going to kiss and make up?”

“That was the plan.”

“Okay, I like that plan.” Alex whispered before kissing Hank. This time Hank didn’t hesitate to put his hands on Alex and pull the shorter man against him. He tried to put everything into the kiss, afraid Alex would change his mind about forgiving him. Hank is so focused on kissing Alex that he didn’t notice the whine of the back door opening. But he did hear the happy shriek that Raven let out when she sees them kissing.

“Oh, yay! Wait, wait, wait keep kissing. Let me,” Hank turned his head slightly to see Raven fighting with her purse. “Get my phone and take a picture.” Hank was embarrassed by his friend, but when Alex started to pull away, Hank didn’t let him. He knew if she didn’t get it right then, she’d find some way to get it later. And besides, he enjoyed kissing Alex, so he recaptured Alex’s lips with his own. “That is so hot!” Raven said before a soft click signaled that she’d taken a picture.

When they finally couldn’t kiss any longer Hank pulled back, panting. Alex chuckled and buried his face in Hank’s neck. “You remember Raven, right?” Hank cannot help but laugh as well. By her giant smile, she is clearly thrilled by his and Alex’s reconciliation.

“Yeah, I do.” Alex steps out of Hank’s embrace and holds his hand out to Raven. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Raven squeals before hugging Alex. When she finally lets go of Alex she pointed wildly at him. ”I have a good feeling about this. Hank is crazy about you.” Hank felt himself blush at Raven’s words but there was nothing that would make him deny them. “Well, I’ll let you two go back to what you were doing.” Raven winked lewdly at Hank before heading back into the bar.

“You know that when I get off work, I’m taking you back to my place,” Alex said when it was just the two of them alone in the alley again.

“As long as you don’t forget the training wheels.”

“You’re in luck. I happen to have just bought a large supply of lemons and salt. And I’m pretty sure one bottle of tequila won’t be missed.” Alex gave Hank a soft kiss. Letting his lips linger, Alex said, disappointment evident in his voice, “But to get that tequila, I’m gonna have to go back inside. You know, work…”

“That reminds me,” Hank leaned back so he could get a good look at Alex’s costume. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Jeez, bozo, I’m a superhero.” Alex struck a pose with one hand in the air and the other on his hip. “And what about you? A scientist? Really?”

“A sexy scientist,” Hank responded with a laugh.

“Yeah, you are.” Alex waggled his eyebrows. “And what’s this, you’re not wearing your glasses?”

“Yeah, well. I thought I’d try contacts like you suggested. Don’t get used to them,” Hank made a face.

“That’s fine. We’ll just break ‘em out for special occasions.” Then, Alex reached for Hank’s hand and linked their fingers before he pulled Hank back into the bar.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Five-Minute Flirtations 5/6

blumvale — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 08:40:16 GMT

Five-Minute Flirtations 4/6

blumvale — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 08:30:36 GMT

Five-Minute Flirtations 3/6

blumvale — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 08:14:50 GMT

Five-Minute Flirtations
Author: blumvale
Artist: cylin
Verse: XM:FC – AU
Word Count: 15,909
Characters/Pairings - Alex/Hank, (Raven/Janos mentioned)
Beta – the lovely, amazing, fantastic and every word in-between Mondays_eyes – thanks so much hun!!
Rating – PG-13

Summary: Raven convinces Hank to try speed dating. Initially, Hank is quite wary about the whole thing. Once at the bar, the first person he meets is Alex, the bartender. While Alex lends his ear to Hank’s dating woes, the two men grow closer until Hank realizes, maybe speed dating was the best idea Raven has ever had.

“Huh. You’re back sooner than I thought you’d be. Where’s your friend?”

Startled, Hank paused halfway through the door. His eyes darted around the room until they settled on Alex, who was wiping down a table. Hank glanced down at his watch and realized he was earlier than he’d planned to be. “Raven has a cold. There’s a bug going around the school and as much as she likes to claim that she’s invincible, this time it caught up with her.”

“Oh, you’re a teacher, that’s cool.” Alex unfolded and refolded his towel before going back to his task. He moved to stand at the end of a booth and leaned over the table to clean the whole thing. Alex’s t-shirt rode up as he stretched, revealing strong muscles in his back. Hank turned his eyes away.

“Uh, yeah.” Hank glanced at his watch again. “I’m going to go out to my car and come back in a bit…”

Alex stopped cleaning mid-swipe. “You don’t have to, it’s not a big deal. I can get you a drink or something. There’s always someone who gets here a little early.” He shrugged and headed towards the bar. “What can I get you, Hank?”

“I’m surprised you remember my name.” Hank said, impressed. Sure, he remembered Alex Summers’ name. But that was because he had agonized over his stupid comment for days. He’d even admitted his faux pas to Raven who had teased him without mercy for it.

Setting up a couple glasses, Alex paused and tapped his temple. “I happen to be a lot more than a bartender.”

Immediately Hank raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t mean that! Really. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to insinuate-“

“Relax bozo. I was just kidding. Chill.” Alex pulled a couple bottles out from behind the bar. Instead of making a drink like he had offered he grabbed a two shot glasses and lined them up next to each other. “Pick your poison, tequila or vodka.” Then he poured tequila into one of the glasses. “Don’t tell Tabitha,” Alex whispered before downing the shot. “It’s another thing she frowns on me doing.”

“Drinking in general or drinking with customers?” Hank asked and pointed to the tequila bottle. Truthfully he’d much rather have a mixed drink, something to take the sharp sting of liquor out of his throat. But he wasn’t going to be a pain and have Alex whip something up when it looked like he still had some things to take care of before more people arrived.

“Both actually. It’s funny since she owns a bar but whatever.”

Amber liquid filled his glass and Hank grimaced before reaching for it.

“Oh, do you want training wheels to go along with that?” Alex asked just before Hank could take back his shot.

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Hank looked at Alex helplessly.

“Come on, you know, training wheels. What did you do in college?” Alex looked aghast while Hank’s confusion increased. “You’re seriously telling me you never poured tequila into someone’s bellybutton.” Not meeting Alex’s gaze, Hank stared at his shot blankly. No, he had most certainly not done that in college. “You never licked some salt from between a girls breasts, kissed her while she had a lemon slice in her mouth? Really? Jeez, bozo, even I did that… although you do look like a nerd so,” Hank felt his face grow warm, sure that Alex was giving him a once-over. “I shouldn’t be surprised. So yeah, lemon and salt are ‘training wheels.’” Nodding, with this new information in mind, Hank raised the glass back to his lips and poured the liquid into his mouth. Forcing himself to swallow he looked at Alex who had popped a lemon slice into his mouth. In one hand he held a saltshaker.

“Interested?” Alex asked around the fruit, his eyebrows wiggling playfully.

Immediately Hank started to cough. Flinging himself back from the bar, he doubled over, trying to catch his breath. Suddenly, Alex was next to him. He forced Hank to stand up straight and pushed Hank’s arms into the air above his head. Then Alex pounded him on the back. When Hank was finally able to breath again and his eyes had stopped watering, he looked oddly up at his hands and then to Alex.

“What? It’s what my grandma always did when I choked on something. It’s not the Heimlich, but it works.” Alex shrugged his shoulders.

Relaxing, Hank put his arms back down. “Thanks, I guess…”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry about that. I should have realized teasing you wasn’t the best plan of action. Again, let’s not tell Tabitha about this.”

“Sure, sure,” Hank agreed, not really wanting to embarrass himself further by informing the bar owner of his fit. Then he walked to the nearest table and sat down. Watching Alex clean up the bar, Hank tried to figure out why the younger man had teased him like that. Raven had said Alex was gay but Hank wasn’t going to believe that until he heard it straight from Alex himself. And even if it was true, Alex couldn’t possibly be flirting with him, could he? ‘Nah,’ Hank mentally shrugged off the idea. He knew he was an easy target, having been continuously made fun of all through his school years. At first it was because he was the smallest. But even when he was a senior in high school and had finally hit a growth spurt, he was gangly and lean instead of big and bulky like the jocks. His love of school hadn’t helped him either. So Hank often found himself pushed into lockers or had his books knocked out of his hands by his tormentors. Alex may be teasing him in a friendlier manner but Hank wasn’t receptive to it. “So, how’s your brother?” Hank asked when Alex went back to cleaning tables.

“He’s a pain in the ass. But as a little brother, I guess that’s his job, right? His name is Scott, senior in high school. Thinks he’s God’s gift to the earth and all that. But he’s a good kid. Doesn’t really get into too much trouble. Heh,” Alex laughed to himself. “I’ve only had to meet with one of this teachers this month so that’s good. Anyway, you know you’ve got to tell me all about your dates. You said you got a few numbers last time you were here. So,” Alex wiggled his eyebrows again, causing Hank to cough once and clear his throat. “What happened?” Alex asked as he finished cleaning and moved on to setting up chairs.

“Uh, you don’t want to hear about them.” Hank shied away from the topic. Hadn’t he suffered enough when he’d gone through Raven’s inquisition?

“Yeah I do. Come on, entertain me with ‘love stories of the tall and geeky.’”

Hank rolled his eyes, but started anyway. “Okay, the first date was with this girl Bridget. It was really strange because as talkative as she was here, she seemed really shy and quiet when we went out.”

Hank didn’t normally eat Mexican, as he didn’t really enjoy spicy food. But when Bridget had insisted that it was her favorite kind of cuisine, he’d driven them to a restaurant that Raven had always raved about. Entering the ‘cantina,’ Hank was happy to see that it wasn’t too crowded and he and Bridget wouldn’t have to wait to get a table. The hostess, a young girl that he vaguely remembered as a previous student from his high school, led them to a table near the window. Wordlessly, before they had even sat down, the girl put the menus on the table and walked off. Amused by the girl’s obvious love for her job, Hank chuckled before sitting down.

“What’s so funny?” Bridget asked as she took her own seat.

“Nothing, really…” Hank smiled awkwardly. Attempting to continue the meager conversation they’d had in the car he asked, “So what’s your favorite Mexican food? What would you recommend for me to try?”

Bridget looked thoughtful for a moment, her lips pursed. “Well, I always get fajitas. That’s when you get tortillas and put the food together how you would like it. So you might want to try that.”

Expecting her to say more, Hank just nodded. When Bridget didn’t continue Hank pulled at his tie and cleared his throat. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.” Bridget just smiled and didn’t say anything else.

Silently, Hank perused the menu. Sure that he was going to follow her suggestion, he still wanted to see the different options offered. Deciding he was going to get chicken fajitas he settled the menu back down on the table. Bridget hadn’t opened hers and just sat there, staring at Hank. “So…” He started to say just as a waiter walked up to the table.

“Welcome to Don Pablo’s. I’m Bobby.” He dropped off a bowl of chips and salsa. “Can I interest you in a margarita or something?” Like the hostess, this man did not seem thrilled with his job as he held a pen and pad, ready to take their order.

Trying to be polite, Hank held out his hand and gestured for Bridget to order first. “Um, can I please have a margarita with a double shot of Patron? And instead of salt on the rim, can I please have sugar?” Listening to her order, Hank felt his eyebrows rise. A double shot seemed like a little much to him.

“Sure,” Bobby replied before looking to Hank.

“I’ll just have a Coke; thanks.”

“Alright.” Bobby penned the request. “Do you two know what you would like to eat?”

Again, Hank waited for Bridget to order first. When she was done, he ordered his own meal. Satisfied, Bobby took their menus and headed back to the kitchen.

“So…” Hank tried again, opening the floor to whatever Bridget wanted to talk about. Instead she took a chip and popped it in her mouth. “This is a nice place.” He said as she chewed. Nodding back, Bridget continued to eat more chips. Every so often she would wipe salt off some of the chips, and Hank quietly watched the granules accumulate on the table.

‘Well, this is boring,’ Hank thought to himself. Bridget had seemed so bubbly when she couldn’t shut up at speed dating. It had been endearing even if a little annoying. “The salsa’s really good,” Hank tried again. Still, Bridget just smiled and continued to eat.
Eventually their drinks and their food came. Hank couldn’t remember a time he looked more forward to a meal, just to break the silence. Organizing his fajitas gave his hands something to do other than twiddle his thumbs. He remembered how Bridget had fidgeted at speed dating and didn’t want to follow her example.

When Bobby came back later with the check, Hank took the bill without comment. He’d been raised to always pay for the woman. Bridget didn’t seem to mind and just smiled as Hank pulled out his wallet.

“You should finish your drink,” Bridget said out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You should finish your drink. You asked the waiter to bring you a second Coke but you only took a few sips out of it. That’s wasteful.”

“Wasteful?” Hank asked confused. Bridget had been silent the majority of the meal and now she was choosing to criticize his drinking habits? Leaving the money for Bobby on the table, Hank stood up, ready to leave.

“Yup.” Bridget replied not moving from her chair. “It’s wasteful to not consume at least half of what you take, food or drink. And it was a waste of the waiter’s time to get you the drink.”

“I don’t really think he cares.”

“You don’t know that. When I was a waitress it made me furious to see how wasteful people are. Seriously, you should be more conscientious.” She looked pointedly at the glass.

Sighing, Hank sat back down. Looking from Bridget to his Coke he rolled his eyes. Grabbing the drink, he gulped down the cold, watered-down coke until there were only a few sips left. “Alright?” He asked a little miffed.

“Right as rain.” Bridget grinned back at him, seemingly unaware of Hank’s annoyance. Then she pushed her chair back and stood up. She grabbed her sweater off the back of her chair and headed to the exit.

Standing and catching up to her, Hank asked, “So you were a waitress?”

“Yup, for two years.” Bridget held the door open for Hank. Once he was out on the sidewalk, Hank shrugged on his jacket. “I worked at an Italian restaurant when I was in school. Had to pay off my school loans somehow. And like I said, it really bothered me when people would ask for another drink and then have a sip or two. Or when they would ask for more breadsticks and then eat only one. That means a bunch have to get thrown out. And why should I have to go out of my way to fill up your drink when you’re not going to finish it? Huh?”

Hank didn’t know what to say. To avoid arguing he said, “I can see how that would be frustrating.”

Nodding, Bridget continued, “So after that I made a rule that you have to eat or drink half of what you take. And I try to hold to it no matter what.”

“Alright then. I will keep that in mind in the future.” Heading towards the parking lot, Hank zipped up his coat and pulled his car keys out of the pocket. The familiar ‘beep beep’ sounded as he unlocked the car. Apparently finished with her tirade about wastefulness, Bridget got into the car and buckled herself in. Sliding into his own seat, Hank wondered for a moment if he was supposed to go right back to her place. Or he could be brave and see if she wanted to back to his. Turning to look at Bridget, he took in her appearance. Sure, he thought she was attractive in her short black dress that showed off her legs. But after their meal, Hank didn’t really feel up to spending more time with her.

Noticing his stare, Bridget turned and smiled. ‘She does have a nice smile,’ Hank thought to himself. But that wasn’t enough to try and salvage the date. First it had been boring and then he’d been berated. That was enough for one night. Pulling out of the parking lot he headed back in the direction of Bridget’s home.

“You’re going to have to remind me how to go back to your place.”

“Oh, sure. Can do.” Hank wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear a twinge of disappointment in her tone. Ignoring it, he waited for her to give directions and didn’t say anything else.

“Ok, you’re going to want to turn here and then my place is on the left.” Turning Hank was relieved to see an empty spot right in front of Bridget’s apartment building. He was even more relieved to see it was large enough for him to not have to parallel park. Pulling up to the curb, Hank put the car in park but didn’t shut it off.

Unbuckling herself, Bridget shifted in her chair so she was facing Hank. “So,” she reached over and touched his hand. He was tempted to pull back from the cool touch. Her hands were freezing. “Would you like to come up? We didn’t get dessert at the restaurant and I’m sure I have something sweet upstairs.” She moved her hand up to Hank’s wrist, gripping his arm softly.

“Um, no thanks.” Hank smiled softly. “I appreciate the offer but,” Bridget frowned and pulled her hand away. “I have some grading to do tonight. Teaching,” he sighed, “The work is never done. Maybe next time?” Hank asked, even though he was pretty sure there wasn’t going to be a next time.

“Yeah, next time.” Bridget brightened and opened her door. “Well have a good night.” Then unexpectedly she leaned over and kissed Hank on the cheek. Her lips were as cool as her hand and he was glad she didn’t linger. “Don’t work too hard.” Swinging her feet out into the street, Bridget paused a moment, waiting for Hank to change his mind. When he didn’t, she grabbed her purse off the floor and got out. Shutting the door, she turned back, waved, and then headed to her building. Having been told to always wait to make sure the person got inside, Hank waited for her to open the door to her building before putting his car back into drive. He waved to Bridget when she hesitated on the stairs and then drove off.

“So you just left her? Seriously? She was giving you an opening, dude.” Alex had stopped moving chairs and was staring directly at Hank. “So dinner was boring, you still should have gone up to her apartment. Dessert, bozo! Dessert.”

“Look, however you do dessert is fine. But I wasn’t… uh… hungry anymore.”

“Whatever, bozo. You don’t pass up a prime opportunity like that, come on.” Alex shrugged his shoulders and went back to moving chairs. After setting up the last table, he walked over to Hank’s table and sat down. “So what about the others?” Alex leered. “Get any dessert on your other two dates?” Hank shook his head and Alex deflated in his chair. “Jeez, bozo what happened with them?”

“Well, Julia spent the whole meal telling me about her three last boyfriends. Yeah. I learned how one moved away and one cheated and one went back to marry his high school sweetheart. Then after helping her put her jacket on, I rubbed my eyes and they blew up, just like that.”

“Wait, what?”

The door to the bar opened and two women walked in. “Is this speed dating?” One woman asked after being nudged by her friend.
Standing, Alex grinned brightly, welcoming the women inside. “Yes, ladies. Tonight is speed dating night. Please come on inside, warm up and I can fix you a drink while we wait for it to begin.”

The women smiled back and Hank frowned at the intrusion. It had been nice when it was just he and Alex. He didn’t feel like fighting for the bar tender’s attention. He watched Alex as he helped the women out of their jackets. Considering why he was there, he knew the right thing to do would be to go over and talk to the women. But he didn’t want to. After Alex had set them up with drinks, Hank walked to up the bar.

Not missing a beat, Alex asked, “So what happened to your eyes?”

“Julia has two dogs and four cats. They are the only other things she talks about aside from her exes. And I have terrible allergies.”

“Oh…”

“Exactly. So there must have been some animal hair on her jacket and when I rubbed my face...”

“Gross.”

“Oh yeah,” Hank agreed. “It was a good thing I had picked her up because she had to drive me back to my place so I could take an antihistamine. Then from my place, she took a cab home.”

“And you didn’t get any dessert with her? Dude, she could have been the doctor or the naughty nurse. You could have been the patient.”

“No,” Hank shook his head. “The medicine knocked me out. Besides there would have been way too many people in that bed. Me,” he counted off, “Julia and her three exes.” The door to the bar opened again and more people piled in. A gust of cold air followed them and Hank rubbed his hands together to warm them. “And I never actually called Vanessa. I just couldn’t bring myself to, not with her giant mole. I just couldn’t.”

“Oh yeah, I remember Mole Girl.”

“Ha,” Hank chuckled. “Raven called her the same thing.”

“Well unless you want to try and get creative, I think Mole Girl is going to be a given.” Hank nodded in agreement. “Maybe guacamole?” Alex asked with a grin and Hank gagged a little at that. Then a man walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. As Alex got it for him, he said to Hank, “Look, I’m gonna start getting busy. Why don’t you go chat with some people? Ask those ladies who came in about their favorite desserts,” Alex sniggered. “And I’ll talk to you later.” Hank nodded again and walked away from the bar. Instead of talking to the ladies like Alex suggested, Hank headed back to the two top he’d been sitting at.

Hank found himself staring at the door. He really wished Raven wasn’t sick and wanted her to stroll through the door. He knew that wasn’t going to happen but it didn’t stop him from daydreaming that his friend was going to save him from the desperate women congregating at the other tables. A door from the far end of the room opened, revealing Tabitha. Hank wasn’t surprised to see Alex’s boss. But he was happy she hadn’t come out sooner, to see his coughing fit. As Tabitha strolled into the main room, another woman placed her drink down on the table and sat with Hank. Startled, Hank found himself a little tongue-tied.

“Um, hi… I’m Hank.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Alison. Actually,” She took a sip of her drink. “I think we’ve met before. My son Joshua Blaire, was in your science class last year. We met at the parent teacher conferences, right?”

Thinking back, Hank had a clear picture of Joshua in his class. Trying to remember the conference, he hedged a guess, “Your hair was longer wasn’t it?”

“Yes!” Alison grinned. “Yes, it was about this long.” She shifted in her chair and pointed to her mid-back. “Yup, I just cut it a few weeks ago. I’m still getting used to short hair.” She reached up and tugged on her blond pixie cut.

“It looks really nice.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s sweet of you to say. You know, Josh always raved about your class. I could listen to him go on for hours about how much he loved you class and all the things he learned. I bet you think that’s a little weird. I mean, obviously you enjoy science, but Josh, he’s never liked school. So it was really nice as a parent to see him excited about something other than World of Warcraft.”

“Oh yeah,” Hank smiled at the compliment. “He was a good student. Quiet but always got his work done. This year I’m teaching math but Josh isn’t in any of my sections.”

“No, he has Mrs. Reyes this year.”

“Well if he ever needs help, he can ask me. You know, for extra tutoring or something.”

“You really are sweet.” Alison grinned again, her white teeth perfect against the bright red of her lipstick. “So I’ve never done this before, have you?”

“Oh, just once before. It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, my friend encouraged me to do it. She says it’s time for me to get back on the horse.”

“Right…” Hank wasn’t sure what to say. He remembered hearing from some other teachers that Mr. Blaire had passed away early the year before. Hank figured it might have been one of the reasons Joshua was so quiet in class.

“Any tips?”

“Um, be careful of the bullshitters, the ones who come up with outrageous lies.” Hank grinned. “There was a woman here last month going on and on about how she was an Olympic swimmer.”

“How do you know she wasn’t?” Alison asked as she settled back in her chair and crossed her arms and stared at him. Hank gulped awkwardly under the gaze. “Shouldn’t we give her the benefit of the doubt?”

“Well let’s just say she wasn’t a small woman, let alone a swimmer at all.” Alison’s eyes lit up as she laughed at Hank’s explanation.
“There was also a guy boasting how he was an author with 15 books out. He went on and on about how each of his books was on the best sellers list. But seriously, if he was a big-shot author, what would he be doing here?”

“You’re right,” Alison continued to laugh. “You’re right; this is for us common folk.”

“Exactly,” Hank chuckled, surprised at how easy their conversation was progressing. A loud hmm hmm forced Hank to look past Alison towards the bar. Alex was waving in his direction. Trying to not to be too obvious so Alison wouldn’t become curious, Hank watched Alex smirk and hold up eight fingers. Belatedly, he realized Alex was rating Alison. Hank forced himself not to roll his eyes at the childishness.

“So what do you do?” Hank asked, turning his full attention back to Alison.

“Oh. I’m a lawyer. I work in family court.”

“Ah I see. The ‘shouldn’t we give her the benefit of the doubt?’ comment makes a lot more sense now.”

“Yeah…” Alison agreed. She tipped her glass back and finished whatever it was she was drinking.

“Can I get you a refill?” Hank asked. He figured it would give him an opportunity to yell at Alex for his juvenile behavior.

“Oh no thanks. I might get another one later but for now I’m good. Besides, I think we’re about to start.”

Turning to look around, Hank realized Alison was right. Tabitha was in her familiar position at the center of the room. She waited for everyone to settle down before starting her speech about finding Mr. and Mrs. Right. When she was done Hank got up from the table. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“I can’t wait.” Alison grinned brightly up at him. As he walked away, Hank found himself smiling as well.

Continue

Part 1
Part 2

Five-Minute Flirtations 2/6

blumvale — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 08:02:16 GMT

Five-Minute Flirtations 1/6

blumvale — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 07:52:25 GMT

Hank nodded noncommittally and moved on.

Continue

blumvale — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 16:27:49 GMT

FIC EXCHANGE: BLOOD AND HONOR

Title: Blood and Honor
Author: blumvale
Recipient: cai_ann
Prompt
#2: Emma takes over Erik's mind, forcing him to try to kill the
students. The only way he can be stopped is for Charles to kill him. Cue
the angst.
- So I didn't follow the prompt exactly but there is plenty of angst and I think the end makes Erik a little bit of a bamf.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: multiple major character deaths
Word Count: 4263
Disclaimer: none of this is mine but oh I wish it was :)
And
a very special thank you to mondays_eyes for all of her amazing work!
And thank you to my mom for going over the entire thing with me ( and
trying to teach me better grammar at the same time)

and I'm just gonna link to erik_charles my story: here you go :)

blumvale — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 04:12:11 GMT

I just want to say how PROUD I am to be a New Yorker and it is about damn time Gay Marriage Passed!

ha ha that was fun

blumvale — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 04:13:19 GMT

What American accent do you have?
Created by Xavier on Memegen.net

Northern. Whether you have the world famous Inland North accent of the Great Lakes area, or the radio-friendly sound of upstate NY and western New England, your accent is what used to set the standard for American English pronunciation (not much anymore now that the Inland North sounds like it does).

If you are not from the North, you are probably one of the following:
(a) A Southerner who hates Southern accents and tries really hard to "talk right"; or
(b) A New Yorker or New Jerseyan who doesn't have the full accent

Take this quiz now - it's easy!

blumvale — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 01:53:29 GMT

Not a World We Can Survive In
This is a follow up to Zombieland aka Not the World We're Used To
This is for Challenge 4 at st_respect and the theme was angst and we needed to have an audio element so I went ahead and recorded it into a podfic. Yay team_spockkirk

http://rapidshare.com/files/457166739/zombie_au.wav (can someone please tell me if this works)

Rated R for cursing and mild gore
Warning - multiple character deaths

Unease festered in his stomach. This was the first time since being in Garland that he felt so alone. It was unnerving and he didn't like it. Cautiously Jim continued down the hall cursing himself for getting separated from the others. "Spock," he called out to the empty hallway but wasn't surprised when there was no answer.

A door creaked behind him and Jim spun quickly on his heel. Seeing a zombie coming out of a classroom he quickly fired off four consecutive shots from his gun. His aim had gotten better over the last few months but still the first shot ricocheted off the floor. The second and third shot hit the zombie in the leg and chest while the fourth, thankfully, was a kill shot, hitting the zombie in the forehead. The zombie crumpled to the ground and Jim took a deep calming breath before turning around. His hands were shaking. He needed Spock.

Moving through the school was slow work; multiple hallways led back to the same beginning, taking Jim in circles. He checked every classroom to make sure nothing took him by surprise. Heading into the school's auditorium through a side entrance, the door closed behind him with a loud bang. Jim winced at the noise. The area behind the stage was dark, one closet to the side giving off enough illumination that Jim could see the fingers in front of his face but not much else. Moving forward he pulled at the curtain that separated him from center stage.

A bat was swung at his face and Jim reached up to block it instinctively. Clutching the bat in both his hands, he could just make out the familiar bowl cut of its owner.

"Spock," Jim said happily, a smile growing on his face.

But his happiness was quickly spoiled when gross, sticky fingers grabbed Jim's shoulders and pulled him back. His heart rose into his chest as he took an awkward step back into the body behind him. Hot breath ghosted over him before teeth suck into the soft skin at the curve of his neck and shoulder. Jim cried out in pain as the metallic smell of blood assaulted his nose.

Bang.

Blood squirted in all directions, coating one side of Jim's face. Spock had been quick to shoot the zombie with the gun he kept hidden in the back of his jeans. But he hadn't been quick enough.

Lights suddenly came on all around them. In bewilderment, Jim turned to see Pavel at the switch breaker pressing random buttons. The curtain was pushed further back revealing Leonard and Nyota. Looking at Jim they frowned deeply.

"All that blood the zombie's, kid?" Leonard asked as Jim wiped awkwardly at his face.

"I uh-" Jim stuttered. Spock ripped his shirt and then spat on it before cleaning some of the blood off Jim's neck. Jim flinched when Spock touched the torn flesh. From the other's expressions, Jim knew they could tell the zombie had broken his skin. His neck throbbed in pain.

"Fuck," Leonard said, running his fingers through his hair in agitation.

No one said anything else for several seconds before Nyota squared her shoulders and took the gun out of Jim's hand, pointing it at him. Jumping back, Jim's hands went up in defense. "What the hell, Nyota?"

"Look Jim, I like you, a lot. You're a nice guy but you've been bitten so you're dead. I either shoot you now before you change or after. I'd prefer to do it now if you don't mind. That way the rest of us have a chance to get out of this shithole." She gestured to Leonard, Pavel, Hikaru, who had materialized next to his boyfriend, and Spock. Nyota took a slight step forward, ready to shoot but Spock calmly pressed the gun down until it pointed at the floor.

"I will do it Nyota. You four head out. I will stay with him."

"Spock no, Nyota's right. You all should get out of here. Just... do it." Jim straighted his back and closed his eyes. "I'm ready."

Warm lips touched his clean cheek and Jim's eyes shot open. "Come Jim," Spock took him by the hand. "I hope you get somewhere safe." he called over his shoulder as he pulled Jim towards the stage door.

Digging his heels down, Jim wrenched his arm free of Spock's grasp. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Go with them!" Spock reached for Jim's arm again but Jim knocked the offered support away. "Get out of here, damnit! You have the chance to keep going." Tears welled up in Jim's eyes. "I want you to leave with them," he said through clenched teeth.

Spock only shook his head. Looking back at his friends Jim could tell they weren't happy by this turn of events but there was nothing they could do. "Why aren't you stopping him?" he spat angrily. "Take him with you!" Pavel leaned his face into Hikaru's shoulder, refusing to look at Jim. Leonard started to move forward but then Nyota touched his arm and he stopped. Then Nyota turned around and headed in the opposite direction. The three men followed her. Turning back to Spock, all of his anger washed out of him and Jim whined, "Please go with them. Please Spock, go with them for me. If you love me at all you'll go with them."

"It is because I love you that I will stay." Neither of them had ever said the words and now that Spock had, Jim couldn't keep the tears that had welled up in his eyes from spilling down his cheeks.

"I love you too."

Spock nodded, a small, sad smile on his face. Then he sat down on the stage floor, his handgun resting on his thigh. Mimicking Spock's actions Jim sat down as well, facing him.

"Why don't you just shoot me?" Jim asked. "You want to see what I look like once I turn?"

"There is no evidence that says you are beyond all doubt, going to change into a zombie."

"How else do you think baby zombies are made?" Jim tried to joke but knew it fell flat. He sighed and slouched forward. His neck still ached but now the pain wasn't located in that one area. Instead the pain radiated down his left arm and side. Even the top of his thigh was beginning to hurt. "Look, Spock, there's not much time. I'm going to die. I can feel it, I know... But you could catch up with the others. I want you to live."

"I have been very happy with you these last few months but I wish I had spoken to you when you first moved in." Spock interrupted. "We could have had more time together but I was shy. Even though I had lived in the building so long, I knew none of my neighbors. You were the first person I wanted to get to know." Jim squirmed at Spock's confession. "I remember you were wearing a gold shirt. It made your eyes look so beautiful."

"You got close enough to me to see my eyes?"

"I passed you on the front porch. You were holding a box of cooking supplies and almost banged me with it. You smiled an apology and then continued past."

"I don't remember that." More tears formed in Jim's eyes and he rubbed at them to keep them at bay.

"It is good then, that I remember for the both of us." Jim nodded and gulped furiously at the lump that had formed in his throat.

"Spock I-" It came over him like a wave, dying. Except it wasn't really dying. In the back of his mind, Jim still existed, a slight flutter in comparison to the tremendous hunger he suddenly felt. Crawling towards Spock, the slight bit of him still recognized the man he loved, recognized the wrongness of his action. He tried to pull himself back but nothing could stop him. Spock didn't even move away.

Blood gushed in his mouth as he bit Spock's neck. Then he felt cold metal at his chin and he was truly dead.

Seconds later another gunshot echoed off the auditorium walls.

Outside, Nyota couldn't stop herself from crying, her icy exterior melting fast. Leonard held her as she cried, her tears wetting his shirt. "It's alright Darlin'. Spock took care of it, he did what he wanted."

"At least now they're still together," Pavel murmured unhappily.

"Come on, Spock gave us the chance to get out of here, so let's go." Hikaru said as he led the way to the nearest exit, his gun ready while Pavel clung to his back like a lost child. Leonard started towards the exit as well but Nyota turned back to the auditorium and opened the door. She could see the two bodies laying on the floor. She was thankful that she couldn't make out any blood from the distance. Stepping just inside she shut all the lights off until everything was dark, except for the closet at the far end. Now it just looked like Spock and Jim were just sleeping, wrapped in each other's arms, and that sat better with her than the sad reality. Turning back to Leonard, she intertwined their fingers and headed outside.

Script (story) written by Valerie aka blumvale
Performed by Valerie, Tina, Spru, Maria and random dude who's name I don't know (I can never thank my friends enough for helping out!)

Sound Effects
Creaking door - http://soundbible.com/1717-Creaking-Door-Spooky.html
Door slam - http://soundbible.com/297-Cellar-Door-Slam-Shut.html
Single shot - http://soundbible.com/1789-Loud-Bang.html
Multiple Shots - http://soundbible.com/1666-M1-Garand-Gunfire.html

Song
Name - Abandoned
Composed by Robert Davidson
Published by Freeplaymusic
http://www.freeplaymusic.com/search/category_search.php?t=f&i=12

Zombieland

blumvale — Fri, 01 Apr 2011 02:09:57 GMT

Written for st_respect's ship Olympics, Event 3, We're not in Kansas Anymore – AU Challenge. Yay team_spockkirk

After growing up in a group home for boys, Jim had always kept some non-perishables in his closet or another place equally hidden from those who might take it from him. He kept boxes of rice-a-roni in between piles of underwear and socks. Cans of soup were hidden in boots or galoshes and packets of pasta were in his pillow case. And even though he hated the way it tasted, he kept powdered milk underneath his bed; much like others his age hid porn.

Jim could hear screams coming from the street, but chalked it up to someone watching their television too loudly. It wasn't until the smell of blood wafted in from everywhere that he thought there might actually be a problem. Slowly he got out of bed and even more slowly leaned over to look out his window. He could see people running in the streets. No, that wasn't completely accurate. People were being chased down the streets. With his jaw dropped, he watched as three… things, jumped on a woman and pushed her to the ground. From his third story window it was easy to see the blood and intestine. A wave of nausea hit him. Jumping away from the window, Jim reacted on the instincts that had kept him from getting beaten up in school - He needed to hide.

As quickly as he could, Jim threw his pillows into his closet. He reached under his bed for his gym bag; that too was thrown into the closet. As he moved into his living room he heard a scream from the hall. The things were in the building. For a brief second he felt guilty for not going to his door to see if he could help whoever screamed, but he squashed the feeling down just as fast. Right then, he needed to collect water. Grabbing a few empty bottles from his recycling can, he went to the sink to fill them up.

His door rattled.

It rattled again and Jim, as quietly as he could, tip-toed away from the sink and back toward his bedroom. Hopefully whatever was out there would lose interest in the locked door. When the door wasn't broken down, he breathed a small sigh of relief, but knew he couldn’t relax yet. To put one more barrier between him and whatever was out there, he locked his bedroom door. He threw the water bottles into the closet and with energy only adrenaline could provide, he pushed his desk in front of the door. Jim grabbed his laptop and went into the closet where he did the same with his dresser. He could worry about getting out later. In disbelief of the last few minutes, Jim sat against the dresser and waited. Every so often he could hear screams; whether they were from the hall or the street, he didn't know or care because either way they were too close. Turning on his computer, he saw various half-done posts on news sites and Facebook - zombies.

If he hadn't seen them with his own eyes, if he hadn't seen the woman killed on the corner outside his building, he would have thought it was some giant hoax. It would have been funny to think that some amazing hacker had put up posts about people being eaten alive. But it wasn't a joke and Jim didn't know what to do.

When he heard the door to his apartment shatter, Jim's heart leapt into his throat. He could hear grumbling and thrashing coming from the other room. Sitting with his back against the dresser, ignoring the painful way the handles dug into his back, he pressed his legs against the far wall. He was ready to push with his every ounce of strength to keep the closet door closed. The banging on the bedroom door was almost as loud as the pounding of blood in his ears. He waited and waited, still poised to push, to take some kind of action. But if never came. Jim didn't know if his desk was heavy enough to keep the door shut or if the zombie just wasn't interested in what wasn't going to be a quick, easy meal. The sounds coming from his living room ceased, and the whole world outside his closet seemed to quiet.

Jim didn't sleep the first night. Normal sounds like the creaks that come with living in an old building had his neck hairs standing on end and his breathing labored. Part of him ached to leave the closet and look out his bedroom window to see if there was anyone else alive. But he wasn't ashamed to admit he was scared.

He finished one of his water bottles that night and when there were no other options, pissed back into it a while later. His gym bag, which had never actually seen the inside of a gym, held chips and cookies and other sweets that Jim liked to occasionally indulge in. Dinner consisted of Fritos and Doritos. Breakfast the next morning was nutter butters. Later, even though the water was room temperature and it took forever to soften the noodles, he ate some ramen. It was hard not to continually munch on his snack foods; he had nothing to do but wait. Occasionally he would go on his computer and search for any sign that help was coming. But the web was as quiet as the real world.

It was quiet all the time. He wasn't expecting to hear birds chirping, or the wind howling, not since he was in the closet, but he was used to hearing cars pass or honk their horns. He was used to hearing his upstairs neighbors bicker at ungodly hours. He was used to life going on around him.

The second night he slept moderately better, secure that the quiet meant death wasn't nearby. But the next morning brought a whole new state of emergency when he woke needing to relieve himself. With a sense of dread, Jim pushed the dresser back from the door, half waiting for something to push it open the second the barrier was gone. Slowly, he opened the door and cringed at the high pitch whine it emitted. "Shut up!" he urged the door like it would suddenly listen. He leaned his head against the doorframe and looked into his bedroom with one eye. Nothing seemed out of place. Braver, he poked his head out into the larger room and relaxed; his desk was still in place against the door.

Listening carefully for any sound in the next room, Jim pushed his desk away from the door. Not for the first time, he wished his bathroom was connected to the bedroom. Though this was the first time he wished it was connected because of a zombie apocalypse. Before opening the bedroom door, Jim looked around his bedroom for some sort of weapon. Grabbing a baseball bat from the corner, he headed back to the door and opened it with one foul swoop - letting whatever was on the other side meet his bat.

Jim's arms sagged by his sides when he realized there was nothing there. His front door was in tatters and on his way to the toilet; he thought how he was going to fix it. The door to the bathroom was open and while it seemed like an odd place for a zombie to hide, he was cautious anyway. Pushing the door further open with a loud slam, he made sure nothing was lurking behind it. He smiled happily because he had a glass door shower and didn't have to go 'psycho' on it. He looked back toward his door, waiting to see if his noise alerted anyone to his presence. 'Anything,' his mind corrected. When he just couldn't wait anymore he went into the bathroom and locked the door.

After washing his hands, he was just as careful, peaking out behind the door before going into the living room. He was halfway back to safety when he saw a figure in the hall. Jim took a staggered breath and raised his bat, ready to defend himself. But the figure put his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"I did not believe there was anyone else alive in the building." The man said as he stepped into Jim's apartment. "I have been going to each apartment for survivors and you are the first. I have completed my rounds of the higher floors."

Jim whistled half in awe and half in sadness. He lived on the third of nine floors. That meant a lot of rooms…Jim shook his head, trying to end his train of thought.

"You live in this building?" Jim asked as he didn't recognize the man. But Jim hadn't lived in the building long and was always bumping into new faces while coming in and out.

"I do. I live on the ninth floor and have for three years, two months and five days."

Jim quirked an eyebrow at the precise description. "Have you seen any," he paused briefly, "Zombies?" The word sounded so funny on his tongue even though they had been a reality for more than twenty-four hours.

"I have not. But I have seen what they have left behind." The man stepped forward again and Jim noticed the gun he had with him. Seeing where Jim's eyes traveled, the man said, "It is not mine. I took it from someone who no longer has any use for it."

Holding out his hand he said, "I see… My name is Jim Kirk."

"My name is Spock."

"Seriously?" When Spock didn't meet his greeting, he put his hand back awkwardly at his side.

"Yes. My parents were fans of a science fiction television show and named me after one of the main characters."

"Nice of them." They were silent for several moments before Jim asked, "How'd you keep from getting eaten?"

"I believe I did something similar to what you did. I barricaded my door and hid until it seemed safe to come out."

Jim nodded. "Yeah… sounds about right. Um, are you hungry? I have some chips," he jerked his head towards his room. "Or I could whip something up?"

"You think it’s wise to cook when Zombies could come in?"

"Yeah well, you thought it wise to wander around the building. And if you kept guard I'd have the time to make something for us."

Spock was quiet for a moment and Jim felt slightly aggravated by the other man. He didn't have to cook as he still had some chips and stuff in his closet, but after a couple days of junk food anything was looking better. And two people had a better chance of survival than just one.

"I see that your idea has merit. What will you make?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm not a gourmet chef, but I can make some spaghetti with pasta sauce."

Spock was silent again until, "That seems like an adequate meal. The carbohydrates will allow us to keep up our strength. We should have some protein as well. Do you have any meat or tofu?"

"Tofu?" Jim let out a deep belly laugh. "Awe man, that was good." He wiped a tear from his eye, with a grin on his face. It was so nice to not be alone, to be able to act normally with someone. At Spock's serious face he continued, "I think I have some meatballs in the freezer." He opened the freezer to check and pulled out a half empty bag. "Yup, here we go."

"That will suffice."

"I'm glad you approve." Jim countered with another eye roll. While he grabbed pots from the cabinet, Spock turned a chair to face the broken door and sat down. He laid the gun across his lap, ready for anything that may come.

Like it was any other day, Jim started to hum as he turned on the faucet and filled a pot. Then he turned on the stove and put the water on to boil. Opening another cabinet, he pulled out some packets of pasta, not ready for Spock to know that he hoarded some in his hideaway. He was still humming as he grabbed cheese and pasta sauce from the fridge, when Spock interrupted him.

"Would you please stop that?"

"It's just a little humming. There's no harm to it."

"Nevertheless, I find it and your dancing to be a distraction. It does not allow me to keep watch with my complete attention."

"My dancing?" Was Spock watching him?

"Yes, you move around the kitchen in what seems to be a manner of dance."

Jim blushed a tomato red. He hadn't realized he was 'dancing' at all. "Yeah, sure I'll stop." Spock's gaze went back to the door and while still embarrassed, he was grateful that Spock took his job so seriously. Pretty soon two plates of spaghetti and meatballs were ready and set on the table. Spock continued to watch the door, only pausing his attention to take a bite of food here and there. They ate in silence.

When they were done Jim put the plates in the sink and washed them. He knew he wouldn't get a chance later. He filled some more water bottles and tossed them into the bedroom. Then he sat back at the table with Spock. "So… Are you a student?"

"I was."

"Right. Um, what kind of television do you like?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, "When I have time, I watch shows on the history channel."

"That's cool."

The conversation continued stilted and awkward until about an hour later when Spock decided to go back to his own apartment. He was kind enough to wait for Jim to be secure in his room before making the trek back up the ninth floor.

That night Jim slept better, knowing there was someone else in the building with him; knowing that someone else was alive.

Knock. Knock. Jim sat up on his 'bed' of blankets. Knock. Knock. Jim didn't think zombies were the polite type, but instead of opening the door he yelled, "Spock?"

"Yes Jim. It is I," Spock yelled back to him.

Quickly Jim un-barricaded himself and went to his living room. He smiled brightly at the other man.

"Morning sunshine," he said happily as he moved around the kitchen to make some breakfast. Grabbing some eggs out of the refrigerator, he started making some french toast. It wasn't something he made often, but considering it was the zombie apocalypse, he figured he'd treat himself. Spock had no comment on the breakfast choice and they were quiet throughout the meal.

When they were done both men put their plates in the sink as Spock turned to Jim. "I think perhaps, it would be better for you to come to my apartment. The door to my home is intact and there is less danger of being attacked should you need to go to the bathroom." He gestured to Jim's bedroom door to the bathroom while he spoke. "We could pack your food and any items you would like to bring with you and go to the ninth floor."

"Um…" Jim was hesitant to leave his apartment. "Don't you think being up that high is dangerous? If the building fills with zombies, how would we get out?"

"I do not think the floor number would make much difference should the building fill with zombies. But I do see your point."

"Naw," Jim scratched at the back of his head. "You're right. Having a good door isn't something to ignore. Let me go grab some things."

"We can always come back down."

"Yeah," Jim agreed as he went into his bedroom closet. He dumped any chip remains out of his gym bag and started to stuff it with underwear and socks.

"I expect you pushed the dresser in front of the door to stay safe?"

Jim jumped at Spock's voice, not realizing the other man had followed him. He knew he'd need to work on his listening and observation skills if he wanted to stay alive. Spock could have easily been a zombie.

"Yeah I did. I also pushed my desk in front of the other door." Some shirts and a pair of jeans went into the bag as well.

"I see."

Once the gym bag was filled with clothes, and an extra pair of sneakers he was able to shove in, Jim grabbed his pillows and headed back towards the kitchen. He threw all the food he could into the pillow cases before turning to Spock. He was as ready as he'd ever be.

Spock lead the way to the emergency staircase, his gun cocked and ready. The trip was slow when Jim thought it would be fast, but the other man was so cautious that just getting up one flight of stairs took several minutes. When they finally reached the ninth floor, Jim's legs burned and he was slightly out of breath, but Spock didn't seem affected at all.

"Why couldn't we have taken the elevator?" Jim asked as they walked down the hall. “Of course he lives at the far end,” Jim mused while Spock unlocked his door.

"It is better to take the stairs as an extra form of cardio." Jim could only nod in agreement.

The apartment was much like his own - the kitchen, living room, and bathroom connected together, and the bedroom and closet parallel. But unlike his own apartment, this one lacked a lived in feel. Part of him couldn't believe Spock had lived in the apartment over three years. Except for some old newspapers and cups on the dining table, and a rain coat slung over a chair, there was nothing that made Jim think someone had entered the apartment, much less lived there. He moved towards the couch and dumped his things on the floor.

"If you would like to sleep there you can, but the last few nights I have pushed the couch in front of the door." Spock said as he walked into his bedroom.

"Oh… Well then where should I sleep?" In his mind Jim was already thinking about trying to get his bed up to the ninth floor or taking a bed from another apartment, but when he followed Spock into his room he saw that Spock had already taken the liberty of doing so.

"After I came back here yesterday, I moved this here." He gestured to a bed that looked like it used to be in a dorm room, an ugly metal frame and thin mattress.

"Oh wow, thanks Spock. Guess you were pretty confident that I'd say yes. But, you know, I could have helped you."

"It was no bother."

Taking that almost as a dismissal, Jim went back to the living room and sorted though his pillow cases, pulling out the food he'd thrown in. Out of habit, he left some pasta in each pillow case. Then he grabbed his things and threw them onto the bed. Spock had already put sheets and a blanket on the bed. Jim sat down on the bed, trying to think of what to do next.

Spock interrupted his thoughts. "If you would like to take a shower, you may do so."

Jim flashed him a grin? "Is this your way of telling me I smell? Or are you just trying to get me out of my clothes?"

"I am doing no such thing," Spock insisted and turned his back as he walked to his desk and fiddled with some papers. Jim didn't miss the red flush that worked its way up Spock's neck.

"I'm just teasing, nothing to worry about. But thank you, a shower does sound like a great idea." Not wanting to embarrass the other man any more, Jim grabbed a change of clothes out of his gym bag, went to the bathroom, and showered.

That night they had an early dinner and when the sun started to set Spock insisted on shutting off all the lights. The apartment couldn't look lived in from the outside. And so they settled into a routine. They would wake early, a little after sun rise, and Jim would cook breakfast. Slowly conversation grew between the two men, but Spock was still quiet most of the time. Jim took comfort from Spock's silence; it was better than being alone and often when Jim spouted whatever came to mind, Spock would listen intently, hanging on to every word. They would read books and occasionally listen to music, just loud enough for them to hear. Jim found himself nappy at odd hours out of boredom. Then Jim would make lunch and dinner. Any meat they had, had started to go bad, but they had a surplus of pastas and canned soups. Spock was always good about doing the dishes afterward. If it was necessary, they would travel to other rooms for supplies. They would go together, Spock first with the gun and Jim close behind carrying as many bags as he could. The building reeked of bodies in the halls and in apartment. Jim often found himself breathing through his mouth as best he could and thanking whatever deity had kept him and Spock safe. In an apartment down the hall they found a treadmill and some weights so they started making daily trips there to keep in shape. One would stand guard while the other worked out and then they would switch. Then the sun would set and the lights would go out and there was nothing but the sound of breathing assuring them that they weren't alone.

One week passed into two and then two passed into a three and before Jim knew it, it had been a month. They had survived a month of the Zombie Apocalypse.

Jim was making a scrambled egg breakfast when Spock came up behind him. "You are humming."

"Yeah so?" Jim had started humming again after the first week with Spock and this was the first time he had brought it up. Jim stopped cooking as Spock moved closer to him, almost flushing against his body. Jim wasn't dumb, he knew that Spock often watched him when he moved around the apartment. He also realized that Spock was a good looking man, tall and lean with piercing eyes.

"You make it hard for me to concentrate when you do that." said Jim.

"Do I?" Forcing his hands not to shake Jim turned off the stove and turned to face the other man. Slowly, Spock leaned in to kiss him and while he wanted it, really he did, at the last possible moment, Jim put his hand on Spock's chest to stop him. "Wait… Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes I do." Spock leaned in again and Jim felt an erection that wasn't his own pressed against his leg. But Jim maneuvered out of his arms.

“Spock, I like women." He paused, trying to organize his thoughts. "Or at least I did until all of this."

"You think zombies made you like men?" Spock asked, his lips quirked in a slight smile. It was easy to see he was amused.

"No you ass," Jim glared at him, but there was no heat behind the action. He made sure his eyes only focused on Spock's face and went nowhere below the belt. "I think that this," he gestured his arms wildly, "Living together, has influenced us to do things that we normally wouldn't do." He crossed his arms in front of his chest like a petulant child.

"Jim, I assure you, I have been attracted to you from the very day that I met you and when I saw that you have survived, I was quite grateful." Spock moved closer to him and slowly, but forcefully pushed Jim's arms back to his sides.

"Yeah?"

"Yes, when I saw you moving into the building, your shirt clung to you and you had sweat on your brow from moving boxes."

Spock was cut off by a grumbling sound coming from outside the door.

Thump.

Thump.

The zombie or zombies were trying to get in. The couch that was normally in front of the door was against the wall. They hadn't moved it back in place the night before and that was coming back to bite them in the ass. The door started to splinter from the attack. Spock moved further back from the door and Jim echoed the movements. When Spock grabbed the gun that had become like another limb over the past month, Jim groaned at not having something himself. He vaguely remembered having a baseball bat, but realized he'd left it back in his own place.

The door broke further and hands were visible as the door was pushed more and more. Moving towards the stove, Jim grabbed the frying pan, he'd been using. It felt good to have something in hand, the half cooked eggs be damned.

The door broke all the way and the first zombie made into the apartment. Spock shot it in the head and Jim was momentarily amazed by the shot. More zombies came toward them. Spock continued to shoot his gun and Jim swung the pan for all it was worth.

Bang!

The pan finally made contact with one of the zombies and it went down hard. Immediately, Jim leaned over it and hit it in the head several times until brain leaked out onto the floor. Another zombie came towards him and Jim did an awkward side kick to knock it back. Before it could stand, Spock shot it and the zombie fell down dead… well dead again. Suddenly Jim was tackled to the ground by a disgusting body. In defense Jim raised a knee to keep the weight off of him and pushed against the 'man's' shoulders. His fingers sunk oddly into the zombie’s skin and Jim felt the urge to vomit. Then the zombie breathed on him, the vile stench of death, and Jim felt bile climb to his throat. The body was gone as Spock kicked it off of him. Bouncing back, the zombie tried to bite Jim, but Spock shot it before it got the chance. Another kill shot right between the eyes. Resting on the floor for a moment, Jim let out a long sigh of relief before taking Spock's offered hand to stand.

Looking around the apartment Jim saw that Spock had taken down six zombies while he'd only taken down one. "I'm gonna have to get a gun." Jim nodded emphatically, hopped up on adrenaline.

"I agree. We are also going to have to find a new place to live and I am in need of more ammunition." Spock seemed as calm as ever while Jim teetered from one foot to the other. "But first," Spock turned to Jim and pushed him into the bedroom. Then he locked the door and pushed his desk in front of it. He leaned his gun against the wall before taking the frying pan out of Jim's hand and tossing on the floor. Jim slowly flexed his fingers. They were sore. He hadn't realized how tightly he had been gripping the pan.

Jim was still looking at his hand when Spock's fingers met his chin and forced him to meet his gaze. "I have desired you for some time." Jim was mesmerized by Spock's eyes; he didn't realize they were moving until his legs hit Spock's bed, and he was forced to sit down. Spock urged him further onto the bed and then leaned over him. "Since you moved in, I have thought you were so beautiful." Spock opened his mouth to continue, obviously thinking he needed to convince Jim of his sincerity. But Jim, chalking part of it up to the rush of still being alive, and part of it to the attraction he did feel for the other man, grabbed Spock's neck and pulled him down to kiss him. As far as first kisses went, Jim had had better. Their noses bumped hard, forcing both men to pull back and find another way to fit together. Jim buried his fingers in Spock's hair, taking pleasure in messing up the perfect bowl cut. Then Spock aligned his hips against Jim's and he felt his eyes roll back at the glorious friction.

They had a lot of things to worry about. They needed more weapons and ammunition. They had no idea if there were more zombies in the building, searching, and waiting for them to try and escape. They needed to find a new place to live.

But as Spock pulled off his shirt and kissed his chest, Jim had no concerns. He was with someone he cared about. They had survived one month and Jim felt confident that they could survive more. So long as they had each other… and they did.

blumvale — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 20:07:24 GMT

Drabbles for Team Jim and Bones for the Emergency Drill at

Unfortunately, it seemed it was completely off in who actually liked who.

"You thought I had a crush on Pike?" Bones asked, his voice getting progressively louder. "Are you out of your mind. I'm in love with you, you damned fool! But now I have to go out with Christopher because you already arranged it. Of all the-" Bones poked him in the chest. "Jim you have to be the most blind starship captain in the entire fleet. I've wanted you for over 5 years!"

"You know, that Captain, he is happier when you come to the bridge to see him. His eyes get large and he smiles more. It makes us all happy to see him happy and not angry with us for anything. You, I think, are very good for him."

Leonard blushes at the awkward praise. He and Jim have been friends forever. But Leonard has given up the hope that they could ever be more.

"He will kill me for telling you this, yes, but he told me, that he loves you." It’s all that Leonard wants to hear Chekov say.

McCoy considered the expanse of space between trees. This would be the perfect place for a hammock. He hadn't planned on spending shore leave in Iowa but his ex was going on vacation and taking their daughter with her. He was sure that she'd planned it this way. But for the umpteenth time Jim had saved him from himself and invited him to join him in Iowa. Leonard hadn't hesitated to go with the younger man. Hell, he would go anywhere for him. Now he just had to convince Jim to get in the hammock with him to 'thank him.'

Leonard cringed as Jim volunteered to sing next. He hated karaoke! There was nothing worse than drunk tone deaf fools getting up on stage and forcing themselves into the spotlight. Well the last part was probably what got Jim involved - he loved having all the attention on him.

Jim sauntered up to the stage and Leonard discreetly stood and headed for the exit. He really didn't want to hear Jim sing. He got enough of it when Jim sang in the shower and it wasn't pretty. The music started and Leonard gulped awkwardly.

"Hit me baby one more time!"

“I don’t know but let’s re-enact possibilities ‘til we hit on something recognizable?”

Leonard rolled his eyes, though the action made his stomach swim. He was about to berate the younger man when he felt a hand travel up his thigh.

Jim's eyebrows waggled in amusement as he gently gripped McCoy's growing erection. Jim stroked him until he was bucking against him.

"Ok, I guess that's an idea I can get behind." Shifting so that Jim could still stoke him, Leonard leaned down and kissed his Captain's lips. "What do you say Jimmy? You gonna let me get behind you?"

Then it hit him.

Jim rubbed his cheek, a half frown half pout gracing his features. "Did your tail really just smack me?"

"Yeah, sorry about that." Bones at least had the decency to look sheepish when he continued, "It seems to have a mind of its own." Leonard's tail suddenly reached forward to pull Jim closer to the doctor. The pull was so quick that Jim had to put his hands on Bones' chest to keep from knocking them both over. Then Jim squeaked when the tail wedged its way into his pants and pressed harshly at his anus.

"Whatever happened to a Doctor doing no harm!”

"Yeah well if you wouldn't get yourself hurt all the time, you'd have nothing to worry about."

"But I'm not hurt!" Jim insisted. "I'm just a girl." He shrugged.

"Fine, you may not be bleeding, dying or losing a limb, but these," he gestured to Jim's breasts, "are not normal!" Then Leonard cupped Jim's vagina and almost moaned at the loss of the familiar bulge.

Before he could pull his hand away, Jim crossed his legs, effectively trapping Leonard's hand where it was. "I think we should try out these new parts."

Jim hurt. Pretty much from the bellybutton down, he just felt numb and sore. Groaning he sat on the biobed, hoping for anything to get rid of the pain.

Instead of giving him a hypo, Leonard just laughed. "You know, you big baby, that real women go through this every month. Cramps are normal."

"There is no way this is normal!" Jim wanted to shout but refrained from doing so. "It hurts so bad!" He moaned pitifully. "Come on Bones, you gotta give me something."

"The only thing I gotta do is pound myself into you... when your periods done."

Arrows were flying all over the place and the chance of getting hit by friendly fire was on the rise. Ducking behind a boulder, Jim pulled Bones down to protect him.

"Damned to alls hell Jim, the shit you get us into, fuck!" Leonard bellowed partly out of fear and partly out of anger. "One of these day's you are going to get us hurt or worse yet killed! Awe, fuck, are you hurt? You're bleeding." Leonard ripped his shirt to tie the cloth around Jim's bleeding arm.

“I’m not hurt, because when I’m with you nothing can touch me.”

Sulu and Kirk were surveying a new planet, bored out of their minds. Standing at a cliff's precipice, they looked out at the landing party. Below them, McCoy's eyes rolled back in his head. As Leonard fell to the ground he wondered how long it would take for Jim to get to him.

Jim ran over to his lover, worry all over his face. "Bones?!" he asked, wrapping an arm around the older man and pulling his body onto his lap. "Bones?" he asked again, scared. Without thinking, Jim kissed Bones. He smiled, relieved when Leonard looked up at him.

Sometimes their missions were boring and sometimes they were dangerous. Sometimes they were outright weird and sometimes they were like Pinkutus III. Before they had been allowed to start working out peace treaties they had been expected to drink some pink concoction. It made Jim feel all loose and free and gave him the hardest wood he'd ever experienced. So what did he do? Well he grabbed his doctor and stuck it where the sun don't shine. He had to do the Pinkutsian's customs justice. He hardly noticed the audience or the fact that the seemed to be keeping score.

Now that he had Jim, he never wanted to let him go. It was about time that their friendship progressed to something more. They'd been basically glued at the ship their entire time at the academy and now they were in space together. Leonard pushed Jim back onto the bed and pulled off his shirt. Then he attacked the pale skin, trailing kisses up Jim's chest and licking his nipples.

"This is forever," he said meeting Jim's eyes.

"Hell yeah it is!" Jim countered and with ease you only get from combat training, flipped Leonard onto his back. "You're mine!"

"Bones what? What's wrong?" Jim looked over his doctor for any scrapes or bruises, but did not see anything.

“No I meant that you and me, I think we have a problem.” He gestured to the tribesmen surrounding him. About thirty men with sharp rocks at the end of sticks had appears from out of the trees and Leonard could not see any way for them to escape.

"Son of a bitch!" Jim wailed as he put his hands up in a defensive manner. How did he always manage to get them into these situations? "Um, we come in peace..."

Jim groans. Leonard bites his ass and Jim groans again. He struggles against the bindings on his arms but can't move an inch.

"Stop struggling," Leonard commands, his lips suddenly next to Jim's ear.

"Please..." One little word and it is all Jim can manage. His cock is aching and all he wants is to be to able to stroke himself to completion. But no, Bones won't allow him that. Bones won't allow him to come first.

"You're mine pretty boy," Leonard purrs. He roughly twists one of Jim's nipples and the younger man cries out in pain and pleasure.

"Let's see I remember going to Scotty's. We played poker, had a couple beers and the rest is a blur."

"A couple beers?" Bones asks incredulously. "Jim you drank us all under the table and then some. Every time we tried to cut you off, you'd throw a punch and run around till you got your hands on one. You're a fast son of a bitch! And thank you for this by the way." Bones gestures to his black eye. "Love you too."

"Awe Bones, I am so sorry! Once this hangover goes away, I'll make it up to you!"

Bones pulled Jim down to the bed with him and started to kiss him. Trailing his fingers along the waist band of Jim's brief, he teased the younger man by just dipping his fingers inside closer to Jim's erection before pulling away. It was shore leave and they had all the time in the world. Unless Spock interrupted again. Silently Leonard prayed that wouldn't be the case. The last four times he had the opportunity to enjoy his lover's embrace, Spock managed to need something signed, had a message from Starfleet, or got himself kidnapped, forcing Jim to rescue him.

"Holy shit you're hot! Leonard exclaimed when he touched Jim's forehead. Quickly he ran to the bathroom and turned on the faucet to the tub. "Come on Darlin,' Leonard tried to pull Jim from the bed but he was dead weight. "Come on, we got to get your temperature down and fast." He pulled again. "Baby, I know you're hurting something fierce, but work with me please." He finally managed to get Jim off the bed and headed back towards the quickly filling tub. Leaning Jim against the toilet, he pulled off Jim's pajamas and helped him into the water.

'Being sick sucks but Bones is the worst patient ever!' Jim gripes as he carries a tray of piping hot tomato soup and goldfish crackers into their quarters. He could have gone to their replicator but he had wanted to get away from the big baby for a few minutes. Looking at the bed, Jim could see a large lump covered with blankets.

"Hey sexy, I brought you something to eat," Jim tries to keep his tone light as he nears the bed. "Come on, you must be starving."

A head pops up. Bones sniffles, sucking his thumb. "Fuck you."

"I'm in."

"I'm in? That's how you respond when your boyfriend of nearly three years asks you to marry him? That's how you respond to the man who has given you more hangover hypos than he can count, snuck you onto the Enterprise, who takes care of you every time you're hurting, wakes up next you every morning, goes to sleep next to you every night, suffers through your damn fetishes, like red heels and fishnets, and makes you eat your vegetables so that you don't croak before you're fifty?"

"No that's how I respond to the man I love."

"What do you think?"

"What do I think? What do I think!" Bones nearly shrieked. "I think you have gone completely off the deep end, that's what I think." Leonard paused and took a calming breath. Then he looked at the picture again. "This is really what you want to do? There's no going back from this. You can't return her like clothes that don't fit right. She'd be ours."

Jim took the picture out of Bones' hand and looked happily at the picture of the little girl with blue eyes and chubby cheek. "I think she'll fit just fine."

"We could keep her," Bones said quietly. "We don't have to, if you're not ready. We're still young, got plenty of time to adopt. I don't want to pressure you... But if we are going to keep her there is a lot of paperwork that needs to be done."

“Perhaps we should,” Jim said, looking down at the little baby in his arms, "Think of names?"

Leonard breathed out a happy sigh at Jim's question. "Yeah sure Darlin.' That's a great idea. How you feel about Elizabeth Rae?" Reaching awkwardly over the baby Leonard pulled Jim close and kissed him.

"I know what I ate the first time around, I don't need to -"

"I know Darlin', morning sickness is a bitch." Leonard leaned over Jim and rubbed his back. "I hate seeing you like this."

"Let's switch. You can get beat up from the inside, have to pee every five minutes, and suffer through, not three months like you first told me, but seven months of puking up everything that goes down."

"I would if I could..."

"Bah! I bet you said that to Jocelyn too and yet here you are with me and you're still not knocked up."

"No, baby, of course not!" Leonard said softly as he held his nearly sleeping son to his chest. "Prince Bones didn't kill the dragon. No, after he kindly asked the dragon to let Prince Jim go," Leonard turned to glare at his husband when Jim snickered at the story. "Prince Bones climbed to the highest tower to free his love. Then they kissed."

"Yuck!" David complained, drowsily. Jim snickered again.

"And they lived happily ever after." Leonard finished. "And now it is time for all good little Princes to go to sleep."

"Tell it to me again Daddy, pretty please..."

“Because it’s what couples do,” Jim said with a grin.

"No Jim, on this one I am pretty sure you are mistaken."

"Awe come on Bones. I've always wanted a tattoo but could never think of what to get."

"Maybe that was a hint that you shouldn't get one..." Leonard rolled his eyes.

"Maybe," Jim conceded. "But now I know what I want. Well I know what we should get. I'm gonna get 'Bones' on my ass. You can get 'Property of James T. Kirk' on yours."

"I really think you have lost your mind." Leonard left the tattoo parlor.

and cause this one doesn't really fit with the above:

"Why didn't you put the sign up?" Leonard yelled as he struggled to grab his clothes and keep his dangly bits covered at the same time.

"Sorry..." Jim replied calmly, not even bothering to move from the floor. At least he'd had the decency to grab a book to cover himself.

"I am so sorry-" Leonard tried as he ducked behind a counter but the customer was having none of it. The woman turned on her heel and stormed out of the book store. "Good job Jim. That's another customer we lost cause you can't keep it in your pants!"

blumvale — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 19:56:28 GMT

Team Jim and Bones drabbles for the Emergency Drill at st_respect

Now he had do was sit back and watch as the fireworks started to fly.

Unfortunately, it seemed it was completely off in who actually liked who.

"You thought I had a crush on Pike?" Bones asked, his voice getting progressively louder. "Are you out of your mind. I'm in love with you, you damned fool! But now I have to go out with Christopher because you already arranged it. Of all the-" Bones poked him in the chest. "Jim you have to be the most blind starship captain in the entire fleet. I've wanted you for over 5 years!"

and cause this one doesn't really fit with the above: