Three Memes, Your Choice

[browngirl]

Augh, all of my WIPs are staring at me balefully and blockily. I need to work on something else, without risking drowning in the kink meme. SO.

Pick a story of mine (listed in my Memories: NUMB3RS, Star Trek, or XMFC only, please) and pick one of these memes: Timestamp (which is to say, give me a time period before or after); DVD commentary on one scene (your choice); or have me tell you about something that didn't make it into the story.

Comments

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Hmm, how about the week before Charles gets taken, in Rose in the Fisted Glove

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Charles knows, from the moment he slips out of his house to find Erik waiting for him with a sideways smile and a hand-basket of gear, that it will be a day to remember. The whole day of roaming the fields and woods, while they languidly try to catch fish and Erik works on holding his metal rod without his hands, when they head by mutual accord into the cooler shadows and stumble laughing over another disheveled couple* before they find a shady nook of their own, while they entwine between a great willow's roots and take the afternoon's pleasure with each other, Charles feels every warm moment indelibly tinting his memory, storing up joy to revisit for the rest of his life.

He only learns why when he and Erik meander back to the village , slow and easy and side by side until Raven's distant distress bleeds into his thoughts and prompts him to run. He reaches home, Erik close beside him, to find Raven before the door weeping in Irene's arms; before Charles needs even ask, Irene raises her blank white eyes unerringly to his and says, "The Empire's tax collectors are riding, they'll reach us before the week ends."

The words strike Charles to his heart, as he lifts his gaze to his poor, peaceful village and realizes instantly what and who must be the tax.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

♥

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

*beams at you*

I forgot to add the note about the couple! I kept trying to decide who it should be -- who did you imagine?

[http://users.livejournal.com/_samalander/]

I'd love to see the moment in the world of "Light, Inaccessible" before the story when Pike hears about the Kelvin. Bonus points if he thinks Winona was dead, too.

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Chris cannot solve this Warp 12 equation, and the door chimes again. "Come in!" he shouts irritably, smacking the damn equation off his screen. He'll get back to it after a break, after dealing with whoever's beating down his door.

"Pike!" Hannity announces himself before the door even opens, and no, Chris isn't coming out with him and Emer to -- "I had to catch you, man! Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" Chris asks, and only then sees the serious look on Hannity's face, the lines creased into his cheeks. This can't be good. "What?" Chris hears himself repeat faintly, and snaps his mouth shut.

"Turn on the Commnet," Hannity rumbles mournfully, reaching over Chris's shoulder to do it himself. Chris glances at the screen --

"LAST TRANSMISSION OF THE USS KELVIN" reads the banner below a staticy image of an impossibility, a crackling ring of lightning against the void of space and oozing from it, oily-black and malevolently gleaming, an assembly of long sharp light-specked tentacles, the prow of some massive ship from nowhere or Hell.

The sound cuts in then, an announcer's voice, all fake calm and shrill undertones. " -- destroyed by an unknown assailant at 2100 GST Earth time. Number of survivors as yet unknown. I repeat, the Federation starship --"

"No," Chris says, drowning out the Kelvin's name, staring at the alien monstrosity on the screen. George and Winona's ship. Robau's command, George had joked he'd pull some strings to get Chris posted to it and Chris shot back he'd earn his place on it and now it's so much dust, orbiting a star somewhere on the edge of Klingon space.

George too, most likely. Winona too, and their unborn baby.

Hannity's calling him, "Pike, hey Pike," squeezing his shoulder with a heavy hand. "Pike, man, I had to make sure you heard, I know you have friends serving aboard."

Chris nods, a flex of neck muscles. He stands up, away from the tinny news of disaster pouring off the screen. "Hannity." He should thank Hannity for making sure he knew. He can't see anything but static and lightning.

"What, man? What is it?"

"Hannity," Chris says, numbly lifting his head to meet Hannity's worried eyes. "Come on. Let's go get drunk."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_samalander/]

OH PIKE *snuggles him*

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Poor bb Pike. :)

I realized this also a prequel to that time travel Jim-meets-Pike story I wrote that one time...

[yeomanrand.livejournal.com]

Brownie Batter: after the baking.

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

The smell of baking chocolate pulls everyone in, of course. Armando barely gets his fingers out of Alex's mouth before Sean, Angel and Raven charge in, babbling up a storm, followed by Moira and an agent or two of the less assholic kind. When Hank wanders in, looking sleepy and befuddled, Alex starts downright smouldering; no one notices except Armando, who pats him on the shoulder, careful to keep it light, and gives him a shrug when he glances over. At least he gets half a smile back.

Professor Charles (Darwin thinks of him that way, anyway) and Mr. Lehnsherr show up just before the timer goes off, and Armando sets the brownies on the counter and backs out of the crush, warning them all to let the damn pan cool before they dig in. He ends up bumping shoulders with someone, glances over, and finds himself right beside Prof Charles.

Who gives him a conspiratorial smile and a wink, and thinks at him, If you and Alex want to retire to the courtyard for some air, I promise there will be brownies left when you return."

Armando feels his eyes go wide -- telepathy, chills running up and down his spine -- but he gets it, and grins and tries to think Thank you back as he spins and snags Alex by the elbow and they duck away. Judging by the smile he sees Charles toss over his shoulder as Armando shuts the door behind them, his gratitude got through loud and clear.

[yeomanrand.livejournal.com]

Oh, bwee, lovely!

[browngirl.livejournal.com]

*curtseys* :D

[thistlerose.livejournal.com]

Eeee! I love it!

(But now I want brownies.)

[browngirl.livejournal.com]

*giggles* The perils of foodfic. :D

[leftbrained.livejournal.com]

Charlotte and Erik from A Delicate Fire, when they finally make it to a bed?

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Charlotte wakes slowly, hazily, soft blankets swathing her body, a warm relaxed presence blanketing her mind. Erik lies on his chest beside her, heavily asleep, his arm across her waist and his face sculpted in the dim light; they exhausted each other, and she can see rare peace in the lines of his finely carved face.

She supposes she's earned a moment of smugness, she thinks as she skims her hand over his on her side, her awareness over his sleeping mind, and smiles into the twilight.

[I'm sorry this is so short. I gave up on finding the opportune time to write it and am writing it at a very inopportune time.]

[leftbrained.livejournal.com]

...she sexed the rage out of him, homg. This is lovely, thank you.

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

At least for a little while. :) And you are very welcome!