such_heights | Prompts!

Prompts!

I am clearly in some sort of pre-NaNo writing hyperdrive right now, and don't want to work on any of my current in progress stories just to have to drop them again come Friday night. Also, as I breezed past my profile today I noticed:

Gosh! I am not quite sure where that number snuck up from. Anyway, you people are ace, is what I'm saying.

This post now open for prompts - shiplets, timestamps to any of my stories, etc. Leave a comment below, with characters/a pairing and a prompt, and receive!

Available fandoms: Doctor Who, Torchwood, Harry Potter, Firefly, Stargate: Atlantis, Supernatural, His Dark Materials, crossovers therein.

Taking prompts until 23:59 GMT Friday, dun dun dun.

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Kaylee is the Doctor's new companion. Sunshine

Kaylee notices the man in the junkyard straight away - hard not to, sticking out like a loose screw with his fancy clothes in among the grime, suit glinting in the sunlight of this hot afternoon. Her fellow scavengers think he's Alliance and beat a hasty retreat, but Kaylee doesn't reckon so - you can tell an Alliance mole a mile off, after long enough on Serenity, and he just isn't.

"Hey there," she says easily, sliding up alongside him. "Shiny compression circuits you got there."

The man runs a hand through his hair, frowning. "But it's just that bit too incompatible, the TARDIS'll never be able to work them into her mainframe."

"Sounds like you're stranded there," Kaylee says sympathetically. "You know, I'm pretty hot at mechanics myself, maybe I can help?"

He looks over, smiles slightly. "Ah, thank you, but-- my ship's sort of unique."

"Hey!" she protests. "No need for the brush off, ain't a ship in the sky I've not been able to put to rights."

He laughs. "That so."

"You bet it is."

He studies her for a long moment, and Kaylee shifts a little under his gaze. "What's your name?" he asks.

"Kaylee Frye, at your service."

"Well, I'm the Doctor, and how'd you like to come see my ship?"

"You just lead the way, Doc," she replies.

He walks her over to . . a wooden box.

"Huh? If this is some kind of sick--"

"Just open the door, take a look inside."

"Oh. Wuh de ma."

THIS IS MY FAVOURITE EVER.

I AM BEAMING LIKE A CRAZY PERSON. BEST. TEAM. EVER. :DDDDDD

*runs around flailing* *squees* Hurrah!

Soooooooooooooooo cute!

WE DEMAND MORE!

THERE MUST BE MORE!!

FANDOM DEMANDS IT!!! OBEY THE FANDOM!!!!

;)

Hey, aceness attracts aceness, so yeah. :)

Let's say... HDM: Lyra, mid-twenties. Some difficult task, and she reminds herself about working towards the Republic of Heaven.

She's been in these meetings for three days, and it feels like a lifetime. She's petitioning the council, looking to secure a reallocation of funds - change, a fresh start, a better chance for the kids she grew up alongside, the ones that weren't exposed to the mixed benefits of Jericho's finest minds. But any progress seems infinitesimal, nothing nearly good enough and all so caught up in politics that Lyra wants to scream.

They break for lunch and she forces herself not to flat-out run out of the hall, because no matter how much of an imposter she feels at times in this world, the people around her seem to respect her to a point, listen to her even if she knows she's fighting an uphill battle. So she steps out into the Oxford afternoon and breathes deep.

The city's beautiful, filling with people selling lunchtime wares to travellers and the traders down at the river. And it's not perfect, not even close, with kids slipping through the cracks every day, she knows. But she's fought for Oxford before, and will keep on fighting, because it's worth it.

She glances back up at the town hall, reassessing. She'll go back in a minute, sit down with these leaders and try to change their minds. She'll tell them stories, work with all her might, and as long as they're inching ever-closer to heaven, it will be enough.

Lily/James and...er...a trumpet.

"It's like--" James flails for the words. "Every time I see you, the whole room lights up, angels singing and trumpets sounding and the whole bloody lot, and--"

"James, what?" Lily stares at him.

"-- and I've gone mad, I'm pretty sure, I'm down to an 'E' in Transfiguration --"

Lily rolls her eyes. "Oh, wow, things must be dire."

"Seriously," James agrees, oblivious. "And Sirius is probably going to kill me, and--"

Lily grabs him by the robes and kisses him.

"What?" James gasps.

"Anything to stop you talking," she mutters.

"But-- I wasn't done yet, I have a whole thing about promising never to bother you again if you ask me to, and--"

"James. Shut up."

A slow smile spreads across his face. "Okay."

Harry Potter- Ginny and Luna, Should we have a baby?

Doctor Who- I want some Romana!

Firefly- Inaraa and Kaylee, engine room, cute kissing

Torchwood- Let's have some Tosh and Gwen bonding time, with maybe some Ianto thrown in!

Gwen & Tosh

Owen hits the desk in frustration.

"The systems are still blocking me out - oh, to hell with this." He grabs his belongings and strides out. "I'm done!" he yells in the vague direction of Gwen, who watches him leave with a sigh.

"We still haven't quite got that whole chain of command in place, have we?" she asks Tosh.

"I'm not sure we ever really did," she replies, smiling, then turning to the computers. "Okay, let's see. Oh!" Her keyed-in commands have taken them through to Jack's inbox. "Guess I don't have to hack in after all."

"You knew his password?" Gwen asks.

"Apparently." Tosh frowns. "He mentioned it in passing a while back."

Tosh flicks through files - there's a bunch of increasingly angry messages from UNIT that she'll let Gwen taken care of, various messages from the general public, looks like, that'll need to be sorted through and gleaned for any relevant information.

A reply from Ianto, unopened: Yes, sir, I'm just getting a round of coffee in with the others and then I'm at your disposal.

Tosh continues glancing through until a flagged message opens up.

"Gwen?"

Gwen wheels her chair over. "What've you got?"

Tosh points mutely at the screen. In the event of my demise, it's entitled.

You know what to do.

They stare at it. "Bastard," Gwen hisses, "the enigmatic bastard."

"He wasn't taken, he knew he was going to leave," says Tosh.

Gwen shuts her eyes for a moment. "God."

"What are we going to do?"

Gwen gathers herself. "Right. Right, okay, I'll tell you. We're going to keep doing our jobs - we're going to catch aliens and protect the city, keep each other safe. Also, I am going to go down to archives right now and haul Ianto out, then we are getting out for her and doing something normal for the first time in far too long, all right?"

Tosh offers her a salute at that. "Yes, ma'am."

awwwwwwwwww!

John/Rodney and the prompt "Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare." (http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/604.html)

They really, really nearly died today. Rodney's still humming with it, the aftershock of being at the business end of a dozen blasters, the whole ship around them on the verge of blasting into space dust and all Rodney could do was yell Now, Sheppard, now! and try not to get killed before he could get saved.

He's wired now, the adrenaline mixed in with the caffeine he'd practically ingested intravenously so as not to crash before he'd just-- made sure. And John's nowhere to be found, not until Rodney slips out of the seventh balcony he's tried to see him huddled at the side, leaning out over the ocean in dark silhouette.

"Sheppard?" he asks quietly as he moves over to join him.

John looks up, eyes not quite focused. "Oh," he says. "Everything okay?"

"Everyone's fine," Rodney tells him. "Sleeping or getting drunk or... whatever else it is they do post-heroics. You?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just-- taking a breath." John exhales slowly, sending mist out into the spray.

"Home," Rodney supplements.

"Yeah."

"Thanks, by the way," Rodney says. "For, you know, saving my ass and all that."

John laughs. "Sure, any time."

"Yeah." Rodney pauses. "John--" he starts, and there's a quality in his voice he doesn't understand.

John's face falls open, exposed. An expression Rodney's never seen before, an equation he didn't know was there to solve. It will be gone in an instant, but it is of sudden, vital importance that he has the answer before it vanishes.

"John," he says again.

The solution dances in the recesses of his mind, but a touch away from proof. Rodney reaches out, slow in a way he never is about anything. John doesn't move, doesn't flinch away, a living question mark, a puzzle Rodney's finally realised he had the pieces to all along.

"John," he says for the third time. His hand rests on John's arm, so aware of their drawing breath and a heart whose beats he has yet to count.

Formulas rewrite themselves against the lapping waves.

Ooh, awesome.

Thanks! And thanks for the prompt, I've been meaning to have a crack at this ship for ages, and that poem is win.

Harry Potter

Ron/Hermione

george, crookshanks and daydream charm

See, Ron had pretty much figured that the first kiss would be the hard part, and that they'd managed rather spectacularly even if he did so say himself.

But afterwards there was, well, everything else. And Ron's stretched thin right now, the elations and grief of the past two weeks overwhelming and leaving him little space where Hermione might fit in this new shape they have discovered.

Outside, and a summer's day has crept over the horizon, the bright light of the morning letting Ron daydream, just for a moment, that this was like any other summer holiday. He sits down on the patio, watching the house inside as it gradually stirs. No one seems to sleep very much just at the moment. He sees George move through the kitchen, steps slow and meandering, and shuts his eyes for a moment.

"Hey."

Hermione crouches down beside him, Crookshanks padding after her. She carries two mugs of tea and hands one to him.

"Oh, thank you," Ron says, a little startled.

She doesn't say anything else, just rests her head against his shoulder, and it fits.

oohhhh, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou.
very yummy and lovely and the power a cup of tea can have on the english is really quite amazing. :)

Aw, so lovely ending!

I feel a bit guilty about taking you up on this offer after you wrote that fabulous Rose/Martha/Donna ficlet for me last night; but if you still feel like writing a drabble or so, here we go:

Firefly, Kaylee & River, sisterhood

Tenth Doctor crossover with HDM - Will's a companion and wants to see Lyra again. Up to you whether he can or cant, whether they manage a parallel world journey or not.

Oh god I just thought of an awesome one... have you read Philip Pullman's Sally Lockhart books? The ones which were made into tv films with Billie Piper? Cause oh, man, I dunno why I'm trying to hurt myself, but Ten, post Season 4, meeting Sally (as played by Billie Piper) - maybe Rose is a descendant of Harriet.

Also, Rose/New Doctor... something about her forgetting he wasn't the original Ten, or remembering that he wasn't the original Ten, or, I don't know, something about the awkwardness of it or the goodness. What upsets me about the whole situation is that 10.2 is happy, Rose will be happy when she adjusts to it, but original 10 still has major suck.

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Prompts!

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