RhymePhile's Rat Race

fluffy_o asked for an X-Files snippet, in which Mulder and Krycek discuss one of the seven deadly sins



"Did you know the Latin term for lust is 'luxuria'? Interesting, isn't it? Makes it sound like the deadly sin of lust is luxurious."

They were together for yet another fleeting moment -- just enough time to ease the ache, but never enough to make Alex content. These were the hours of rough, passionate kisses and fumbling in the dark for each other; of hurried tastes of skin and sweat; of need, of want, of desire.

When their paths did collide, they flung themselves at each other with an almost primal force, desperate to reconnect after weeks, often months of separation. Their reunions were spent entirely in bed, in a safe place of Alex's choosing. He couldn't afford to be sloppy, not now. He was on the run from the Syndicate, and both of their lives were forfeit if they were caught.

But when they were wrapped around each other as they were now, Alex allowed himself to exhale. For now all he breathed was Mulder.

"Being lustful is luxurious, to me at least," Alex answered.

They were sitting in a car, its windows steamed over from their lovemaking. Alex had his leather jacket wrapped around both of them, and he was slowly stroking Mulder's jaw.

"Funny, I don't feel sinful."

Alex bent down to kiss him. "I feel redeemed."

nuptse asked for a Torchwood drabble, in which Jack celebrates Ianto's birthday.

I avoided the Britishisms! Heh.



The entrance to the Hub rolled back, and Ianto was met by Jack, wearing a party hat and holding a cake.

"Surprise!"

"Sir?"

"Ianto..."

"Yes, sir."

"What did I tell you?"

"If you're referring to the cake, then as I recall it was, and I quote, 'I'm a shit cook, Ianto. Never eat anything made with these hands.'"

"No," Jack drawled, placing the cake down. "About the 'sir' stuff."

"Oh, that. Hmm, only when we're both outfitted in leather?"

Jack grabbed him by the arms and nuzzled his neck. "You're feeling awfully cheeky today."

"I am. I'm the birthday boy." He looked up at the man holding him. "Nice hat."

"Twenty-five only comes once, y'know. We're going to celebrate. With sex! Lots and lots of sex."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Can you keep the hat on?"

marciaelena asked for a Supernatural Wincest drabble, in which "Dean has only one week left, and Sam is desperate."

This is because I love you, Mars :-)



The shabby curtains of their cheap motel room did nothing to keep out the rising sun. Beams of light spread over Sam's features, and he frowned, squinting one eye open in annoyance.

"Mornin', sunshine," Dean whispered.

"It woke me up," he pouted, pulling himself up from Dean's bare chest. His brother was wide awake, staring intently at the window. "Dean, did you even sleep?"

He offered up that half-grin Sam was seeing less of these days, but Sam interrupted him before he could answer. They were finishing each other's sentences more often now, too.

"Don't you say it."

The grin hadn't disappeared. "What, Sammy?"

"Dammit, you know what, Dean."

"That I'll sleep when I'm dead?"

Sam's face pinched into a scowl, but Dean only laughed and pulled him down next to him in bed.

"Don't be mad at me just because I want to see your bitchy pout face a few more times."

Sam slid back to where he had been sleeping, pressed against Dean, their legs tangled together. "I hate when you talk like that."

Dean began playing with his brother's hair. "I'm facing it, Sammy. Time for you to do the same."

"I've tried. I tried fighting it, denying it, accepting it, and none of it makes it any less painful." He sat up again, his voice deepening in agitation. "I don't how you can just lie there and wait for it! And knowing why it's happening..."

"Because I swore to always protect you!" Dean growled back. He sighed and took a deep breath, calming himself. "I'd do it a hundred more times if it meant saving you, little brother."

He had no answer for that, and Dean went back to running his fingers through Sam's hair.

"It feels like we're giving up."

"Nah. I'm givin' in. There's a difference." His hand moved to that sensitive spot on Sam's neck. "I'm not gonna go kicking and screaming, Sammy. I made a deal, and it's time to pay the band."

"How am I going to do this without you?" He could hear his voice cracking when he asked it.

"You're gonna carry on, like dad taught us -- like I taught you. You're gonna make a difference, and make us proud."

"I wish..."

"All the wishing in the world won't change what's going to happen, Sam. If I had the choice, I'd wish for a lot of things, too. For mom to live, for dad to be here with us, for all the crap that's happened to this family to be magically erased. But I can't. I have to take what I got. Seven days go fast."

Sam wrapped his arm around his brother's chest. "I guess that means more sleepless nights."

"You complaining?"

It took a moment to understand what that meant, but then Sam laughed.

Dean's hand never left his brother's head. "Yeah, seven days go fast, Sammy. Too damn fast."

How are you this morning? Oh, that's lovely. Nice to hear it. Wait, what's that? Things are sucking? Indeed, my Flist, things are!

Shall I try to make you (and me) feel better? Well, come scratch my drabble itch with some prompts. I need to try to make things suck less, at least until all is right with the world when Battlestar Galactica returns on Friday. Also? I haven't written shit in like a hundred years!

So, feel free to prompt me in the following fandoms:

+ Angel
+ Buffy
+ Firefly
+ Battlestar Galactica (current series)
+ Highlander the Series
+ Law & Order: SVU
+ Oz
+ The X-Files
+ The Wire
+ Nip/Tuck
+ Supernatural (y'know, I *might* be persuaded into some Wincest, just because I would never write it normally)
+ Torchwood (allowing me carte blanche with Britishcisms, which is why I haven't already written fic)
+ Characters relating to either Chris Meloni or Lee Tergesen

Multiple requests are okay; I'd like to have choices in case a prompt doesn't speak to me right away. Oh, and you don't have to be on my Flist in particular to request.

It worked like this: the first person posted a 100-word (or slightly longer) drabble. Then, the second person would take a line from the first person's story and incorporate that into theirs. Geddit?

Here are my three drabbles from the tree, which can be found here.

( Da Oz drabbles )

viggofest wanted to see Keller and Father Ray trapped in Father Ray's office during a lockdown.

Word count: 736 words. Written in about an hour and 10 minutes because I was interrupted by some stupid work. Psssh.

( Fox in the Hen House )

This is in answer to foxxcub's prompt in which Keller wakes up in the middle of the night to find Toby pacing their cell.

Word count: 786. Written in an hour.

( Flap. Flap. Flap. Flap. )

First day back in work and there is nothing happening. Gah. I keep clicking my e-mail over and over in the hopes that I'll just get junk mail!

Who wants to give me fic snippet prompt? Today I feel like some Stabler or Keller, so prompt away if you feel like it. Give me something to do.

Despite having to write a story for Silver Bells and Gold Shields for tietuckluv; a story for the oz_magi; and another chapter to the Smile series before Christmas (fingers crossed), there was no way I could ignore the Krycek Holiday Zine for 2006. It's my history! I was working on something for drunk_fic (only a few hundred words) and decided to tweak things a bit to make it suitable for the zine. I'm surprised at how well it's turning out. Man, it's been a while since I wrote Mulder and Krycek, so it's nice to flex the ol' muscles again. Anyway, here's a little snippet to the fic, which will be posted exclusively to the Holiday Zine the week of Christmas. I'll link to it here when the time comes.

The yellow streetlight cast a muted glow through the half-open blinds and across the living room. Mulder collapsed to the couch with a huff, while Krycek stood above him, unsure of what to do.

"I'd offer you a drink," Mulder said, his voice low and hoarse as it echoed across the living room, "but it's all gone."

"Which is why you felt that a trip to a bar on Christmas Eve was the thing to do."

"You were there too," the man on the couch pointed out.

"I had no where else to go."

"Well, you're here now."

Krycek looked down at him, struck by the odd tone in Mulder's voice.

"You're not planning on pulling a gun out from under the couch and shooting me, are you?" Krycek asked, half-jokingly. "It would kind of ruin my Christmas Eve."

"Actually," Mulder said, "I was going to ask if you wanted to sit down."

"And then you're going to shoot me?"

Mulder quirked a half-grin, quite visible in the dim light of the room. "Not tonight, Alex."

Krycek was surprised at the use of his first name, spoken without the usual sarcasm Mulder usually reserved for it. He sat down on the couch cautiously.

"The last time I was here things were different," Krycek said.

"Things are different again."

Damn, it's quiet. You never realize how much you rely on the socializing through LiveJournal until you're sitting here waiting for someone to post something just so you know your friends are back from Thanksgiving. Sheesh.

But that's okay; I'm busying myself with writing porn for foxxcub's birthday tomorrow. Hee. It's an Eddie Drake/Elliot Stabler, and I have to say, I'm fairly proud of it thus far. There's 7,196 words to this baby and it's not finished yet. Wanna snippet? 'kay.

The sounds out in the bathroom were louder now when Eddie gripped the back of Elliot's hair and pressed his tongue deep into Elliot's mouth. Elliot kissed him harder, their teeth gnashing together, his lips sucking at Eddie's, thick and wet and hungry.

Whoo, porn! We now return you to your regularly-scheduled after-Thanksgiving boredom.

Because I'm feeling inspired due to the fact that I'm drinking a Seagram's wine cooler thingy right now (which isn't quite the idea for the comm), I thought I'd throw out a quick, non-edited, off the top of my head Beecher/Keller drunky talk snippet in honor of foxxcub's new comm, drunk_fic. Don't worry, I'll contribute more properly later on...I'm just sipping, and staring at Lee and Chris, and....

( Snippety snippet, which, wow, when I finished it, is really dirty and NC-17-ish! )

The hardtime100 drabble challenge this time is "Scars."

( One hundred words again (whoo!), starring the star-crossed lovers. )

From hardtime100's most recent challenge, which asked you to write something related to "Heard It Through the Grapevine." One hundred words exactly.

( Sister Pete and Chris have a talk )

mf_luder_xf wanted to see when Alex Krycek from The X-Files meets Dean Winchester from Supernatural. I played with the timeline a bit; set right after Alex (might have, maybe, perhaps) shot Mulder's father.

( If they can get Nicholas Lea to guest star, can they please use this scene? )

Continuing with the snippet prompt answers (which I am really, really enjoying) ralu_1982 wanted to see Said, Rebadow, and Keller from Oz talking about God. And you didn't think I could get them all together!

Oh, and this is set during Season 4, when Beecher is trying to find religion through Islam, and Keller is quite pissed off about it.

( Heh, Keller is a smart-ass bitch in this one... )

No, I didn't forget about the snippet prompts! I just couldn't write over the weekend because the cheap-ass air conditioner wall unit in my apartment doesn't reach the computer room. It was too freakin' hot. But now I'm cool and content (albeit in work) and I bring you more.

Anyway, rileyc wanted to see Elliot go back to Confession. This is a little longer than a snippet, but it's directly influenced by Meloni's answer to one of my questions in Ask Chris a few weeks back. And yeah, the prayers and everything in this are accurate. I may not go to Mass every week, but this stuff I know. :-)

***

The wooden pew squeaked loudly as he sat down, the sound echoing through the empty church. Kneeling, he blessed himself.

O Lord, grant me light to see myself as Thou dost see me and the grace to be truly sorry for my sins. O Mary, help me to make a good confession.

The light went out over the door to the Confessional, and an elderly woman slowly exited. He waited a few moments, and then entered.

( Poor Elliot. Good thing the kneelers are padded... )

viggofest wanted to see (deep breath) Angel's Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and Connor; Lost's Jack Shephard; SVU's Elliot Stabler; Oz's Vern Schillinger; and Prison Break's Michael Scofield stuck on a broken-down subway car with no a/c and intermittent lighting when the subject of fathers comes up...

( Oh wow, you're going to have to pay attention to who's talking in this one... )

Wow, guys, I had no idea this would become so...popular. Heh. Now you realize that I don't think I'll be doing any work at all today. Some of these prompts are too damn good. I'm going to try to get to at least one suggestion from everyone. Feel free to make requests.

viggofest wanted to see Wanted's Eddie Drake, Firefly's Jayne Cobb, and Nip/Tuck's Dr. Christian Troy walk into a bar...

( I don't even know how to explain this one... )

viggofest wanted to see an Oz/Lost crossover in which Sister Pete and Mr. Eko discuss whether we pick God or God picks us. Dark humor ahead!

***

They sat there in silence for a few moments, awkwardly staring at each other.

"I like your stick," she said, pointing to the piece of wood leaned up against his chair.

"It's where I kept track of our Lord's holy scriptures while on the island."

"The island you crashed on, right?"

"Yes."

"The island you said you didn't want to leave at first, correct?" she asked, straightening her glasses and glancing down at his file.

"Yes."

"This...island. Didn't you say all sorts of odd things occurred there? Mysterious hatches? Strange electromagnetic pulses? Supernatural powers?"

"Correct."

"And you believe that all these things happened to you, Eko?"

( The real reason Mr. Eko carried that Jesus stick around )

jameson044 asked to see Elliot and Olivia from Law & Order: SVU watching Oz

***

She sipped at her coffee and sighed. "Stakeouts suck."

Elliot cocked a half-grin and stretched behind the wheel. "I don't mind 'em. Fresh air is good."

She made a face. "But stale coffee isn't," she said, pouring the rest of the cup out the window.

He sniffed at his and did the same.

"Oh, so I meant to tell you," she said, turning to him. "I watched this really crazy TV show last night."

"Since when do you have time to watch TV?"

"I don't...a friend gave it to me on DVD."

"Since when do you have friends?"

( Elliot gets honest about why he likes the show behind the cut )