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For
the_summoning_dTitle: A Bit Of Fun
Fandom: Who-verse
Pairing: Owen Harper/Donna Noble
Wordcount: 730
Rating: PG13
Summary: Owen makes a new friend. The spray doesn't work, but it doesn't matter.
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“What’s a girl got to do to get a bit of service around here?”
Owen had a blonde in his sights and the spray in his pocket when he caught sight of the redhead shouting for the bartender’s attention and decided on a quick change of plans.
Getting her a drink produced a smile, followed by an exchange of names.
Donna Noble. From Chiswick. In Cardiff on a holiday with her friend Cecile, who’d pissed off with some bloke leaving Donna on her own. And it wasn’t the first time. Even if it was Donna who’d paid for the tickets and the hotel. Oh no. Donna could tell him stories about what Cecile got up to in Doncaster that would curl his hair. Not that she was a gossip or anything. Although she’d heard things about Madonna and Guy Ritchie, and not just what you read in the papers…
Owen was looking for a space to ask Donna if she wanted to go home with him, but there was no lull. He started to wonder if Donna might actually be some alien who could keep talking indefinitely with out stopping for breath.
Strangely enough, she’d somehow segued from Posh and Becks to UFO’s although Owen had missed the transition..
“There’s something out there, don’t you think?” she asked wistfully.
Now he didn’t know if he wanted to give himself a shot of spray and get her home, or take her to Torchwood to find out if she knew anything that might be useful or dangerous.
“There’s a hell view from my apartment, if you want to look for spaceships.”
Not the smoothest line in his repertoire, but smooth didn’t matter anymore.
It took her a second to figure out what he was suggesting at which point she shook her head emphatically.
“I think not. You’re nice and all, but…look at you.”
Owen had heard turndowns before, but that was a new one. Maybe he wasn’t a pretty boy like Jack, but hardly a troll either. He’d actually been hoping not to use the spray, because he wanted Donna to like him for himself, but now he took it out and gave himself a blast, with something that felt like vengeance. He mentally counted to five.
And nothing happened. Or rather something completely unexpected happened. Peals of full-throated, hysterical laughter, leaving Owen feeling slightly humiliated and quite a bit confused. He’d had the spray for ten days and every time it had produced a result.
Donna was still laughing, doubled over and gasping for air.
“All right! It’s not that funny.”
“Oh but it is. Like you’re in one of those commercials for a deodorant and I’m going to come over all in a lather for you just because you spray a bit of stuff. That’s priceless. Skinny thing like you. Best laugh I’ve had in ages. Thanks for that.”
“No trouble at all.” he muttered, wondering if there was still time to chat up the blonde. She’d slipped away, and honestly compared to Donna, she probably wasn’t worth the trouble.
“Oh don’t be mad. Does that trick usually get the girls?”
“Actually, yes it does.”
“I wish I had something like that.”
There was a hint of sadness again. He still liked her, even if nothing was going to happen.
“You want another drink?”
She looked at him through narrowed eyes.
“No strings. I promise. Just talking. You can tell me all about that wench Cecile, or why you think there might be aliens.”
“I know there are.”
“You can tell me all about it.”
Of course he didn’t promise he’d listen to all of it, although tried. Sometimes he just stared at her eyes and sometimes a little lower, but one way or another they found themselves being kicked out at closing time, both of them laughing. Owen had accepted that he was going home alone, and just wanted to thank Donna for what had turned out to be a really fun night, even if wasn’t the kind of fun he’d come out looking for.
He aimed for her cheek and either by accident or design she picked that moment to turn just enough to leave him kissing her on the lips. He pulled back quickly, only to catch a sly smirk, or was it a genuine smile?
“I don’t need the spray, do I?”
“You never did.”
For
vanillafluffyTitle: Return
Fandom: Fligt of the Phoenix (2004 film) AU
Pairing: Ian/John Davis
Rating: R
Wordcount: 240
A thing like that changes a man.
You don’t look into another man’s eyes and know without a doubt that you will kill him over a few drops of water, and remain the same person.
Sunburn, malnutrition and dehydration were easily treated. A few weeks in hospital and he went home, seemingly healthy.
The doctors insisted on a psychological evaluation, which he handily finessed with a bit of charm and a few glib answers, even though he’d seen too much, done too much and lost some part of himself in the process.
His ties to Amacor were severed via solicitor as was his marriage, equal reliefs.
Life went on a post-desert haze as he honed his golf game and wondered when, if ever, he might start to feel again and would it would be like when he did.
It wasn’t until Davis showed up at his door, giving Ian a shiver of fear that he might be seeing ghosts, followed by a very different shiver as he heard promises of anything and everything.
Davis would fall to his knees with-in minutes and Ian would accept it, knowing exactly what he was capable of and what Davis would do for him. Those beautiful eyes looking at him. Both he and Davis were so damaged, it was the only way.
Yes, he was a changed man, Ian thought, watching Davis from what felt like a great a height.
Certainly for the better.
For
britfan1013Title: Method Acting
Pairing: Christopher Eccleston/David Morrissey
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 400
It’s not like he would turn down an offer from Russell anyway, but the chance to work with Chris Eccleston was easily the icing on the cake as well as the cherry on top.
The project was sheer brilliance and madness at the same time. To commemorate the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, Russell had convinced the Beeb to subsidize new television productions of five plays from the bad old days of pre-liberation, including Boys In The Band, The Children’s Hour and Rope. He and Chris were going to play Charles and Harry in Staircase.
He didn’t know which was funnier, that they’d never worked together or that they were going to so under these particular circumstances. On second thought, it was how nervous he felt about finally meeting his soon-to-be co-star and on-screen lover. The gay issue worried him not at all, but, honestly, Christopher Eccleston.
The Ninth Doctor, the most electrifying Hamlet he’d ever seen, and the “nice guy” who’d scared the hell out of David in Shallow Grave. Even though they were the same age, there was something about Chris on-stage on screen that was absolutely intimidating. Nobody could actually have that same presence in person, right?
Apparently they could. Even in a pair of grey shorts and a t-shirt, just a few minutes in from a run with sweat running down his face despite the biting cold of a London winter. He was gulping from a bottle of water, and David found himself slightly mesmerized by the rise and fall of Chris’ chest, and the implication of taut abdominals under the t-shirt.
“Sorry, David. Gotta get the miles in. Marathon’s in April.”
David nodded, trying to shake himself out of the trance. He worked out at a gym of course, but Chris’ commitment to running was as intense as his acting.
“You’ll have to pad up to play Harry, you know?”
Chris shook his head.
“I’ll just act fat.”
David didn’t doubt him for a minute. All he doubted was his own sanity, or maybe just his sexuality. Chris had gone into his bedroom to change clothes and David was more than half-tempted to follow him, a turn of events that Esther’s great grandfather would probably have much to say about.
Hero-worship. That’s all it was. Method acting. They were going to be playing long-time lovers after all.
Hopefully with kissing.
And lots of rehearsal.
“