(no subject)

[lit_gal]

I just put up a bit more of the Stageplay Universe (NCIS). HOWEVER, I really just want to play. I have one more day of freedom before a long slog at work, andhawk_soaring and taylorgibbs looked like they had fun doing this, so I'll give it a try.

Tell me a story I haven’t written, and I will give you 1-3 sentences from or about it. Or, a paragraph or six or eight ;)  Yep, this is your chance to try and poke my muse into writing what you want.

My fandoms are Fast and Furious, Sentinel, NCIS, Buffy, SG1 (earlier years), Firefly, Mag 7

Comments

[velvetwhip.livejournal.com]

Hmm...there was that Angel/Xander/Willow fic you wrote...


Gabrielle

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

You mean that one where Willow got magically juiced up so that anyone she lusted after lusted after her?


Xander shook his head, certain that something was wrong. So wrong, but it was the good kind of wrong, the kind of wrong that made him jerk off in the bathroom. And now, looking at Willow's gentle curves, the angle of her back as it moved into a nicely rounded ass, he couldn't think of one good reason to walk away.

"Xander?" she asked softly, her head tilted to one side, and Xander took a step closer.

"Mine," a voice growled, and for the first time, the large hand resting on Willow's bare stomach came into focus. Angel. Angel was here, his fingertips brushing the edge of her patch of curled pubic hair.

"Hey, play nice," Willow said, her voice shocked.

"I dunna play nice," Angel said in an accent that set off bells in Xander's head, but he couldn't focus on why. Willow was here, the scent of her musk making Xander feel dizzy with need.

"If you don't play nice, you can't play at all," Willow warned. "Oh, goddess. What am I saying? I should fix this. I should totally fix this. I can fix this."

Xander watched Willow pant as Angel's fingers slipped between the lips of her pussy. He edged closer. Angel was dangerous, but that just added a darker note to his bright need for Willow.

[kaylashay.livejournal.com]

*pounces*

If you'll consider a crossover, Tony's heightened senses are finally explained.

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

You mean the one where Sentinels are known, but Tony definitely is not one. Definitely not. Because you know Sentinels are these heroes, and Tony... he's the best thief on the east coast, so he definitely doesn't want to be a hero.


"Oh no. I don't know what you've done to me," Tony said as he poked his finger at the gray-haired cop. NCIS... how sad was it that he'd been caught by people no one had ever heard of. He was never living this down. "You've drugged me up to make me think I'm a Sentinel, haven't you? I'm not buying it."

"Who's your guide, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded, his jaw so tight that he looked ready to explode. "Playing these games won't save you."

"Fuck you, Agent Gibbs."

"I'm not the one who gets fucked," Gibbs shot back, and the second the words were out, his eyes widened. Clearly Tony had gotten through the cracks in Gibbs' tough-guy facade. Tony excelled at that, although he was surprised to have worked his charms when his head spun, he had flecks of vomit over his shirt, and he was almost positive he'd turned a pasty shade of white. He wasn't at his best.

Gibbs sighed and opened the cell door with a clanging sound that echoed through Tony's head. "DiNozzo, you can't keep going without a guide. I promise to not hold anything against you until we can get your guide here."

"I'm not a fucking Sentinel," Tony snapped. Gibbs crossed his arms and looked down as Tony lay wilted across a wooden bench, his one hand braced against the cold concrete floor. With a sigh, Gibbs leaned over and touched Tony's arm, and the shock that passed between them made Tony start so bad that the fell off the bench and hit the ground with a thud that made him cradle his injured arm and struggle to contain the sobs as the pain spiraled out of control.

"Well, crap," Gibbs muttered, but then his hand ran up and down Tony's arm. "Breathe out, DiNozzo. Breathe out and let the pain go out with each breath. Every second, the pain is getting a little easier, a little less intense. Count back with me. Ten. Nine. Eight. The pain is easing enough for you to breathe easy now. Seven. Six."

Tony might have told the man to fuck off again, only he could feel the bright pain uncoiling as Gibbs warm fingers down his arm became the center of all his awareness.

[clucksy.livejournal.com]

There's also that Dom/Brian one where they're celebrating their anniversary and the phone goes...

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Oh yeah... the sequel to Short Time.


Dom thrust slowly into Brian's body, watching as Brian pressed his eyes tightly shut. Shifting his grip on Brian's thighs, he pulled back and then slipped carefully back into his lover.

"Dom, damnit, fuck me," Brian demanded, but with his wrists tied to the headboard, there wasn't much he could do except complain.

"I'm being romantic. This is our anniversary," Dom said. Brian's eyes came open long enough to glare at Dom, and then Dom performed another slow motion thrust, and Brian pressed his eyes closed as he mouth came open. "We're doing something special to celebrate six months," Dom explained patiently.

Brian made an incoherent noise and writhed wildly, but he didn't tell Dom to stop as Dom intentionally set a pace that would deny both of them the ability to come. Dom liked riding the edge this way. Brian was a long-course, and driving it right meant enjoying every turn and twist on the course.

The phone rang, but Dom ignored it as he settled deep inside Brian and let his fingers spread across the man's lower stomach, feeling those muscles twitch.

"Dom, I'm going to kill you," Brian threatened. Dom laughed. Brian might be a scrappy fighter and a mean little shit when he got crossed, but Brian liked being crowded. He liked being reminded that Dom wanted him, wanted to control him. That was a lesson Dom had learned well.

The answering machine clicked and then a familiar voice startled Dom so badly that he dropped one of Brian's legs.

"Dom? Hey, it's Xander. You remember, your celly or roommate. Roommate. Yeah, that's it," he stammered, trying to cover his slip since a little magic meant that no one else would remember Xander being in prison with Dom. "Um, I need a little help because there's an issue. With the issue that, you know, you never wanted to really admit was an issue."

"Just tell him, ya nit," a British voice interrupted. From the tone, that one was aggravated dude.

"Spike, I've got this," Xander cut him off. Spike. Now that was interesting. Dom knew that name, but hearing him, Dom was starting to form a whole new hypothesis.

"Dom, just call me, okay?" Xander asked right before he hung up the phone.

Dom looked down at Brian. He was still tied to the headboard and speared on Dom's cock, but he had an alert wariness in his face.

"Trouble?" he asked. Yeah, that was Dom's good little cop, ready to charge into fight.

"Nothing that can't wait until I finish celebrating my fucking anniversary," Dom said as he recaptured Brian's leg and lifted it up to his shoulder so he could find that perfect angle. For one second, he had Brian the cop under him with that alert expression, but then Dom pressed his cock in and let his hands run down over Brian's bare thighs and the expression changed. His eyes drooped and his mouth opened and his fists tightened around the slat in the headboard. This was Dom's Brian, the Brian no one else ever got to see, and Dom wasn't letting anything interrupt this, not even Xander and his damn magic.

[trouvera.livejournal.com]

How about an NCIS/Firefly cross? The one where the the emotionally limited head of the major crimes/rim territories runs and his ever charming second runs across an ethically flexible captain of the ship carrying questionable crew and cargo...

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Ah yes... the crossover where Gibbs and DiNozzo investigated an Alliance officer who was selling guns to smugglers.


"Ignore Gibbs," DiNozzo said with a smile. He was definitely taking advantage of their cover as lovers. "He's just cranky today." He inched closer and gave Gibbs a salacious wink. Gibbs raised an eyebrow. They would talk about that later.

"Do you have the goods or not?" Gibbs demanded. The hulking merc grunted and shifted his gun to his other shoulder.

"Jayne," Reynolds said with a nod toward the crate. Now they just needed to confirm the tracking numbers on the lasers to throw Sergeant Melick, Captain Reynolds, and this whole rag-tag crew into an Alliance prison. Cobb put his gun aside and used a crowbar to pry up an edge of the crate. The crew was smart to change the crate. That explained why McGee couldn't follow the tracking signals on these missing arms.

Cobb grunted as the long nails finally came screeching free of the wood and a long strip of wood clattered to the metal deck.

"Let's talk price," Reynolds said. "I'm thinking four thousand would be fair."

"More than fair," his second in command answered. She was the one person on this crew that Mal couldn't peg. She was by the book, and his gut said she was a straight-shooter. In another world, he would have offered her a job.

"Check the supplies," Gibbs ordered DiNozzo while he tried to keep an eye on the Serenity crew. DiNozzo's skills were more about undercover work than shooting his way out of this sort of trouble, so he trusted Gibbs to keep him safe in situations like this. Gibbs took that responsibility seriously.

"Um, Gibbs?" DiNozzo said, his voice cracking with uncertainty. Gibbs' guts tightened, but he kept his his poker face in place while he waited for Tony to explain the problem. Reynolds was looking equally confused, so maybe this wasn't some trap that Tony had just sprung.

Tony turned around and held his hand out. Gibbs expected to see one of the stolen lasers or maybe even some wrist-lock bomb as the Serenity crew took them hostage. Gibbs didn't expect to see a food ration in DiNozzo's hand.

"What's this?" Gibbs demanded.

Malcolm looked to his second, but she was as confused as the rest of them.

"You wanted the cargo from the Raven, right?" Malcolm asked.

"Yes, exactly. What the hell is that?" Gibbs demanded with a gesture toward the crate full of rations. Tony had pulled out a dozen, setting them on the top of the crate before he turned to look at Gibbs with a bewildered expression that made him look about twenty years younger.

"That's the cargo from the Raven," Reynolds said. "What did you expect?"

"Guns," Gibbs snapped. He had a lot of valuable time in on this mission, too much to find out he'd wasted it on a bad lead. They had to be playing him.

Reynolds and Washburne traded the sort of look that two soldiers in battle learned to share. They were both honestly confused. Whatever had happened, Gibbs' missing guns weren't on the Serenity, and Gibbs was not happy.

"DiNozzo, with me." Gibbs turned on his heel and started down the gangplank.

"Ain't you taking the cargo?" Cobb yelled after them.

"Hey, maybe next time. You know how guys can get when they're all set to find a nice big gun and then they don't get it." DiNozzo charmed the crew, smoothing over the rough edges of Gibbs' retreat, all the while making it sound like some bad sexual metaphor.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs bellowed.

"Coming. On your six," DiNozzo said before he ran down the gangplank after Gibbs, the metal shivering underfoot. They were in the dust of the road before Gibbs turned to his second, so angry he couldn't even see straight.

"I want to know where those guns got off that ship. I want to know every person Reynolds has ever done business with on this whole gorram planet. I want verification that Melick didn't switch out the guns for rations before the Raven left its last dock, and I want to know if this assignment is too much for McGee, clear?"

"On it, boss," DiNozzo agreed.

University Shaman

[skeptic7.livejournal.com]

Blair Sandburg has regular office hours at the University Ecumenical Center for Spiritual Development, otherwise known as Crackpot Cults Center. I took the idea from CrossRoads, Blair is still part of a university community as well as his mixed hodgepodge of immigrants.

Re: University Shaman

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Blair was bobbing his head, vehemently agreeing with someone on the phone as Jim walked in. "Totally. Man, I hear that," he offered. Jim cringed. Whoever was on the other end probably didn't recognize that as the official Sandburg version of "I think you're full of shit."

When Blair spotted him, he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and waved to Jim. "I hear you," Blair kept saying. "Hey, everyone has to make their own rules for life, you know?"

Grabbing a pad of paper, Blair scrawled across it in purple ink. "This may take a while. Don't wait for me. I'll grab sandwich." At least, that's what Jim thought he wrote.

Jim looked around for the Center's director. The man was MIA, so Jim cornered the first person who looked older than thirty. "Where's the university security?" he demanded. The station had gotten calls about a Christian fundamentalist group threatening to blow up the center for its godless views, so Jim was not amused at being able to just walk in the front door.

The woman's gaze flicked nervously toward Blair. "Um, Professor Sandburg sent them away. He said we have to have an open door policy and guards at the door didn't achieve that."

Jim narrowed his eyes and glared at Blair across a sea of abandoned desks. Blair caught his gaze and slowly pinked. Yeah, the little shit got caught being a little shit. To hell with the fundamentalists, Jim was going to kill him before they had a chance to.

[slvrbld747.livejournal.com]

I have seen plenty of fics where Jack O'Neill turned out to be a Sentinel, and only one where Blair and Jim intersect with Sg-1, and it turned out that Daniel was the Sentinel, and Jack his guide. Snorts softly, of course it was unfinished so if you want to play with that concept, grins.

Of course I love the fic where Dom meets Xander in prison, and learned about the Supernatural. But though that provided the impetuous for Brian/Dom, I always wondered what a later meeting with Xander and the gang would look like, grins. Pick whatever pleases you.

P.S. I wish you wrote Supernatural, I would love a Sam Winchester gets mixed up in Blair Sandburg's business, and vice versa.
-slvrbld747

[trouvera.livejournal.com]

I think I read that one...Daniel's spirit animal is a relatively unimpressive looking desert cat, and he's disappointed until he learns that it is known for being an outstanding hunter of snakes? Loved that one. It was either a very abrupt ending or a WIP that never got finished, can't quite recall...

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Oh yes. Blair is the local Sentinel expert, called in to consult with another soldier on base who recently came online. However, Blair quickly noticed a Sentinel in need of some help.



Daniel stared at Blair, his mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out.

"That's a first, Daniel without a comeback," Jack said, distracting the Sentinel expert. The man was a little more intense than Jack was comfortable with, and Daniel was even more touchy about people pushing too hard. Jack found it amazing that he was the one with the reputation for not playing well with others because it was Daniel who blew if you pushed the wrong button, which usually included anything personal. Of course, Daniel blew quietly. He usually shut down and stalked off, but if Sandburg was right about Daniel having imperfect Sentinel syndrome, they couldn't afford to have Daniel get his nose out of joint.

Blair glared at Jack; however, he quickly focused back on Daniel. "Hey, it's a shock. Trust me, I get that. I totally get that."

Jack could have warned Daniel that sympathy was the wrong tactic, but what would be the fun in that? He'd just bring the wrath of Daniel down on his own head, and after four years, Jack knew better. Sure enough, under Blair's sympathy, Daniel's eyes narrowed and his back straightened.

"I'm not in shock. I'm questioning your professional judgment since I clearly don't have Sentinel vision." Daniel came of out his corner swinging, and from Blair's wide eyes, he hadn't expected that. Jack had found that most of the universe underestimated Danny. "If I were a Sentinel, which I'm not, I would have noticed it. I'm not an uneducated peasant who has gone through his entire life without understanding the concerns and advantages of Sentinel senses, so coming in here and acting as if I were.... it's just insulting. It insults my intelligence and it casts doubt on your credentials as a Sentinel expert." Pushing his chair back, Daniel stalked out of the room with his head up. It was all an act, but Jack figured he was the only one in the room who knew it.

Blair blinked fast, and for one horrible moment, Jack wondered if the kid was one of those men who claimed it was okay for men to cry. "Oh man," Blair finally breathed out. "Okay, that did not go well." Blair turned to him. "Colonel, imperfect Sentinel syndrome is serious. I mean, sure, with one damaged sense, he's way less likely to zone since one fifth of the enhanced senses are effectively blocked. I get that. And whatever damaged his vision, it has to be permanent or it would have healed and he would have come fully online, but that does not mean he can't zone or spike."

Jack pursed his lips and nodded. Unless he missed his guess, he'd seen Danny zone quite a bit. He'd passed it off as Daniel's infinite ability to be fascinated with rocks.

"I'll talk to him," Jack offered. Blair stood up with this expectant look on his face like he expected to go with Jack. Oh no. That was not happening. A worked up Danny was a time bomb, and Jack did not want to turn into ground zero. "Dr. Sandburg, we have a Sentinel on base, experts say his trust issues have led to an inability to bond, so I was hoping that you could do some tests and just makes sure he has as many coping tools as possible." Jack was going to be buying Ellison a fucking huge bottle of Scotch to make up for this, but it was worth it to keep Blair away from Daniel. At least until things settled down a little.

"Cool. I can do that," Blair said while enthusiastically nodding. Jack mentally adjusted his estimate to two bottles of Scotch, and even at that, he would be avoiding Major Ellison for the next month.

[chaoskir.livejournal.com]

Did you ever consider to write DOM Spike with sub Tony and DOM Gibbs with a very sub Xander? I would like to read something like this.

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

That would be a human AU. Spike is the British SIS officer and Xander is a local agent assigned to him. Gibbs doesn't think much of Spike and all his bravado, but he sees a quiet strength in Xander that catches his attention.



Gibbs crossed his arms and stared at Pratt. He'd thought it annoying to have Fornell in his case sniffing up his ex-wife, but the thought of British officer William "Spike" Pratt going anywhere near Tony made him feel like creating an international incident with Pratt's head.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll give you a reason ta stop," Spike snapped, his Cockney accent slipping into something more educated. His accent was about as real as his name. Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"You can't tell me you haven't noticed the bloke, not considering that you buggered Xander last night," Spike said with the nastiest grin Gibbs had seen since wife number two. "Anthony's a right nice piece of ass."

Gibbs refused to react. Whatever game Pratt wanted to play with him, he could. Gibbs didn't care. He just needed to make it clear that Pratt would not be going anywhere near Tony, no matter what Gibbs had done with Xander the night before. True, Gibbs hadn't been intimate with a man for a long time, but Xander with those warm eyes had issued an invitation Gibbs couldn't resist. He wouldn't apologize for that.

"Considering how the boy throws a wobbly every time a man looks at him, I'm surprised he let you make it past first base." Spike was trying to be nasty, and considering that this was his partner he was talking about, Gibbs' low opinion of Pratt was dropping even lower by the moment.

"Maybe he just doesn't like you," Gibbs suggested.

Pratt sucked in his cheeks so his cheekbones stood out. Gibbs had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes. He felt bad for Xander being stuck with this peacock for a partner. "Everyone likes me, mate."

"I don't."

Pratt looked Gibbs up and down, undressing him, but Gibbs stood impassive. Pratt could look all he wanted; Gibbs really wasn't interested. He knew Pratt's kind, he was the sort of strutting, bragging Dom who needed a sub to constantly reinforce his high opinion of himself.

With a huff of laughter, Pratt sat on the edge of the conference table and pulled out a cigarette. He didn't try to light it, but he dangled it from two fingers, rolling it back and forth.

"I had a nice time with DiNozzo last night while you were buggering my Xander, and I just want to make sure you don't throw a wobbly over it today." Pratt went perfect still, his blue eyes targeting Gibbs, and Gibbs' gut dropped as he suddenly put the pieces together. Pratt had a nice time with Tony. He felt a need to protect Tony from Gibbs' bad temper. His body went still and all the ridiculous pretense fell away as the dominant killer emerged to confront Gibbs. Tony had submitted to this ass. Hot fury washed through Gibbs. He was going to kill his second.

[taylorgibbs.livejournal.com]

NCIS/SG1 gen or G/D Jack/Daniel.

Gibbs and Tony let in on the secret after dead Marines start showing up.

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Jack and Gibbs know each other, so when Gibbs' case gets into dangerous territory, Jack and Daniel show up to try and keep Jack's old friend out of trouble.


Tony unloaded an entire clip into the suspect, trying hard to not panic when the Marine kept coming at him, the eyes shining like a demon rising from hell, and Tony had definitely watched too many invasion movies.

"Boss!" he called, an edge of desperation in his voice as he backed up the steps and pulled another clip out of his pocket. Dropping his empty clip so that it clattered to the floor, he slapped the new one in and started firing again. Nine, ten, twelve holes, each trailed a line of blood out of Captain Kest's chest, so Tony knew the bullets were hitting. However, whatever shit this guy was on, it was keeping him moving when he should be falling over dead.

"Aim for the head, DiNozzo!" Gibbs' friend called out. Normally Tony wasn't good at taking orders from anyone other than Gibbs, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He changed his aim just in time for Captain Kest to turn to face the new voice.

"You," Captain Kest said, his voice echoing oddly. Well, not echoing exactly, but Tony did not have a word for the current weirdness. O'Neill stood on the catwalk with Gibbs.

"You know, I thought I killed you once... or twice. I might have killed you twice. I've killed so many of you guys that it's getting hard to keep track of," O'Neill said with a casual shrug. The man was insane. He was insane and standing next to Gibbs. Tony's stomach churned with acid as he realized that the bad situation had just gotten a lot worse.

"NCIS, drop the knife and get down on the ground," Tony ordered, desperately trying to take control of the situation. Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be ignoring him.

"You have no idea how much pain you'll suffer," Kest snarled at O'Neill.

"Suffering, pain, subjugation. You guys promise more than you deliver."

"Jack," Gibbs warned. Tony recognized that tone. Unlike everyone else in the universe who jumped when Gibbs got cranky, O'Neill got a wry grin.

"Now me, I'd be happy to play all day, but these folks need to get back to their lives. So, you can either surrender and get out of that sailor, or I can add one more snake to my kill list." O'Neill was all cheerful smile and frightening insanity. Clearly the man had been in the special forces for a little too long.

Kest slowly turned to face Tony, his wounds still sluggishly bleeding. "I'll get out of this host," he agreed, and some little prey part of Tony's brain recognized the predatory look in Kest's eyes before he leaped straight at Tony with inhuman speed. Tony emptied his entire clip into Kest's head, the blood and bone turning to a mist that settled to the ground behind the body that crumpled in slow motion. Tony had killed in the line of duty, but this time was different. His heart pounded so hard that he couldn't stop pulling the trigger until the weapon clicked as the hammer fell on the empty chamber over and over.

"Tony. It's okay. You can stop now." Tony didn't know when Gibbs had moved, but he was there at Tony's side, his fingers curling around Tony's wrist. "It's safe now."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"I will keep him safe."

Tony was losing his mind because now it sounded like Gibbs' voice had that same echo.

"Samas, it's getting harder and harder to tell the difference between you and Gibbs."

"Fuck off," Gibbs said, and this time his voice sounded normal. Normal and almost amused.

"Boss?" Tony asked.

"Don't worry about it, Tony. You're safe. Let's just get you out of here."

"And have a little conversation about gou'uld and tok'ra and the igigi," O'Neill suggested.

"Don't bring him into this," Gibbs snapped. Tony stiffened. He was Gibbs' second, and whatever Gibbs was in, he should be there to back up his boss.

O'Neill sighed. "Both of you are stubborn bastards. No wonder you get along so well."

Tony had no idea what he'd said to make O'Neill think that, and even more oddly, O'Neill was staring only at Gibbs. Yeah, something was going on, and so far, the only movies that seemed to apply were alien invasion movies. In Tony's experience, that was never a good thing.

[hawk-soaring.livejournal.com]

Tony goes missing and 6 months later Gibbs spots a very different Tony while on an undercover op to bring down a slavery ring.

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Gibbs settled into a chocolate brown couch and watched the show. Scantily dressed men and women wandered through the plush seating, numbers written on their lower back as they teased and flirted their way through the room. Most of the couches had a single buyers--a middle aged man with a huge paunch on one couch, a beautiful woman with a severe business suit on another. A few couches had couples. But what Gibbs really paid attention to were the slaves.

A woman with a lowered head kept watching through her lashes, the picture of demure shyness, only she kept twisting her hips so that long strings of beads swayed and danced against her dark legs. One of the slaves came and sat next to Gibbs and held up a cigar.

"Want one?" he asked with a cheeky grin that reminded Gibbs painfully of Tony.

"No." Gibbs' tone was clipped, and the man took the hint, giving Gibbs a shrug before he got up and gave his hips a little wiggle. Gibbs caught a look at a rounded ass and the number 23 before the slave went and plopped himself down next to a woman a few couches away. Whatever they did to these slaves, they certainly convinced them to play at being cooperative. Gibbs wondered if Tony had ever given in and twisted his hips in invitation or if he'd died hanging from some chains as he refused to yield. Both thoughts were horror enough to drive Gibbs to solve this case, to work twenty hour days when NCIS and the FBI both understaffed the task force. He didn't need anyone else, though. He'd take revenge for Tony one way or another.

The anger wouldn't allow him to even feign relaxing, and Gibbs got up to prowl the edges of the auction. A few of the slaves stayed in the corners, clearly trying to avoid being seen. A man with large dark eyes practically plastered himself to the wall as Gibbs passed, relaxing only when an older woman with white hair crouched down to touch his hip.

Gibbs was going to find every bastard who ran this place and rip their arms off their bodies. He knew where to hide bodies, after all. Jared Gibson might smile and run his hand over a slave's hip while talking about how some people simply begged to be owned, but Jethro Gibbs was going to gut this place and burn every scrap of it.

Stopping near the stage, Gibbs worked to get his emotions under control. He couldn't lose it now, not when these people were finally trusting him enough to let him into their inner circle. But sadly, Gibbs still hadn't seen anything that he could take to a judge and get a search warrant. All the merchandise played at being willing, and all the organizers had couched their terms carefully enough to avoid legal trouble. Gibbs was starting to hate these people enough to consider forgoing the law and taking his own justice.

"Bad day?" Someone asked. Gibbs turned, and his voice caught in his throat. Tony. Tony stood in front of him, tanned and smiling and wearing a leather harness and collar and very little else.

"Just shopping," Gibbs said with a bland smile. He would get Tony free, but there were too many guards for him to make a scene, especially since he was unarmed.

"Rivero thinks that maybe you're looking for me, Agent Gibbs. After all, no one else is catching your eye." Tony twitched his hips, and Gibbs froze. Looking at the door, Gibbs realized that guards were no longer pretending to watch the crowd, they were watching him. Well, shit.

[red-cilla.livejournal.com]

How about the one where Spike meets River?

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

You're looking for the sequel to Some Things Never Change. (http://litgal.org/Standalone/NeverChange.htm)


Spike sat on the fence with a boot propped up. He liked being out here, under a sun that that didn't turn him to dust, but he sure as shite couldn't figure why people had gone back in time five hundred years. Pig wrestling. Spike snorted as Xander threw his arms around a fucking greased pig and held on for dear life as the crowd roared. Spike had seen the Old West the first time around and it'd been as dusty as unhygienic and as boring as it was this time around. Hopefully the Alliance would soon forget William Pratt and Spike could hack the computers and create some new identity on one of the core planets because there was only so much pig wrestling any self-respecting vampire could watch before imploding.

"Did you see that?" Xander asked as he bounced up, all puppyish energy. Whatever spell Willow had used to protect Xander, it had protected him from more than age. His friends' deaths, the end of the world, the mess on Miranda... Xander had seen them all, grieved deeply for them all, and then moved on to find that youthful joy in some new bauble. When Spike had first realized that Xander was immortal, he'd expected the sod to turn into Angel, brooding his way through eternity. Instead, Xander was the light that had kept Spike from turning into a depressed mirror image of his grandsire.

"Wasn't looking," Spike lied. Xander got an injured expression before he narrowed his eyes.

"You liar. You did too watch."

"Did not."

"Did too." Xander punctuated that with a poke at Spike's stomach.

"Oi. Not nice to poke family, pet."

"Not nice to lie."

"I didn't."

"Did too," Xander sing songed. A few of the people in the crowd were watching, and Spike laughed, catching Xander's hand and pulling him close, dust, mud, pig muck and all. One of the bints got a real soft expression on her face as she settled her elbow on the top rail of the fence and rested her chin on her hand.

"River," the girl next to her hissed, pulling at her arm. "That ain't polite. Don't stare at the sly boys."

"Makes me feel all bright inside," River said, her voice dreamy. The other one glanced over, and Spike twitched an eyebrow at them. Under his arms, Xander had that slight tremble that meant he was struggling to not laugh. On a good day, Xander laughed at most anything, and today was a good day.

"Well, yeah." The girl dropped her voice to a whisper that only a vampire would be able to hear. "Lookin' at two guys like that is enough to make any girl all lustful, but you've got to watch them out of the side of your eye, like this." She tried to demonstrate, but Spike timed it so that when she tried to sneak a quick peak, she looked just in time to see Spike's hand slide down to cup Xander's cock right through his jeans.

Xander snorted, the laugh he'd been holding bursting out, and the girl with River stood with her pupils wide with lust and her mouth about hanging open.

"Stop it. You're so not nice." Xander pushed at Spike's arms, but he didn't push very hard. He stopped when the River girl came dancing over toward them. Something in the way she moved reminded Spike of Dru.

She stopped less than a foot from them, her head tilted to one side. "One light chases away all the darkness," she said solemnly. Xander went still.

"That it does, luv," Spike agreed. "It's the only thing that can."

River smiled and turned back to her friend, dancing away through the crowd as her little chum tried to get her out of sight. Spike watched them, a feeling of deja vu making him miss his sire more than he had in four hundred years.

"Spike?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, pet?" Spike still tracked River's movement through the crowd.

"Do you ever wonder about reincarnation?"

Spike looked down at his boy. "Yeah, I suppose I do," he agreed, and then he pulled Xander closer, grateful that he'd never have to go searching for this particular soul. Xander was his, body and soul, forever.

[trouvera.livejournal.com]

Hmmm, if I can get a two-fer...

The one where Ziva meets River? Or Jayne meets Ziva...that could be fun. Ziva meets Zoe could be interesting too. Looking at this you'd think that Ziva is a favorite character of mine, but she's really not. I think Zoe could teach Ziva a whole lot about being tough without being...well, I'll skip my characterization, but there's a reason Zoe and Wash worked amazingly well, and Ziva and Tony never would.

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

That would be the story where Mal, Jayne, Zoe, and Kaylee run a detective agency out of an RV called the Serenity.



"We should stay here," Zoe spoke up.

Ziva and Tony looked at each other, and for one second, Tony was so shocked at having Zoe back him up that he couldn't come up with a response.

"Gibbs and Reynolds might need us," Ziva said, squaring off against Zoe.

"If they did, they'd call us." Zoe sounded sure of that, more sure than Tony was, but then maybe Reynolds was better about asking for help than Gibbs was.

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "So, Reynolds calls you every time he needs backing?" She was probing for a lie.

"Backing up," Tony corrected her out of habit, but the two women were very busy ignoring him, and that was just fine. There was a little too much femdomme energy in this room for him.

"Yes, he does." Zoe crossed her arms. "He trusts me to back him up because I keep out of his business. Until he calls, we wait."

Ziva looked over at Tony as if looking for help. Part of Tony wanted to support his partner. He understood the frustration of having Gibbs shut him out more than anyone, but he also knew the danger of pissing Gibbs off by pushing into the other man's business. "Leave me out of it," Tony finally said as he held his hands up. Ziva's narrowed eyes warned him that he hadn't heard the end of this conversation.

"Don't look to Tony to back up a bad play. He was the one who told you to wait." Zoe took a step back and sat, and it wasn't a coincidence that she chose the chair closest the door. Tony could see the anger in every tight line of Ziva's body. She didn't like being told no. It occurred to Tony that he avoided ever saying no to her because he didn't like to see this side. He prevaricated and obfuscated and simply left her out, but he avoided ever getting into the sort of direct conflict that Zoe seemed to weather so easily.

"So, how long have you know Reynolds?" Tony asked, looking to change the topic. Zoe looked at Tony, her expression softening before she looked over to Ziva with a much harder expression.

"Long enough to know that sometimes he needs to handle things his own way, and the harder I try to push in, the more he's going to pull away." Zoe wasn't going for subtle, that's for sure.

"Because he was a soldier?" Ziva asked, a sharp edge to her voice, and Tony could see that trap a mile away. Ziva was a soldier, and she had a bad habit of assuming that if she could come through a situation, then anyone who took more damage than she did was somehow weak. Tony usually laughed her insults off when she aimed them at him because he understood that her infinite need to be the strongest person in the room came from her father's bullshit. But for her to aim them at Gibbs or Reynolds or Zoe... that was not good.

Zoe shifted in her chair. "I served in Iraq and in 93, I was in Mogadishu as part of a charity that was trying to get food to kids in the middle of a war that rivals anything you've ever experienced," Zoe said in a soft voice. "But I'm not the sort to push people away, not like Gibbs or Mal... or you." Zoe looked right at Ziva. "I guess I'm more like Tony, always looking to hold people together. But sometimes holding people together means knowing when to give a man some damn space. Try it sometime."

Ziva's expression was stone, but she couldn't go out after Gibbs without getting by Zoe, and Zoe had become the immovable object. Tony was starting to fall in serious lust with the woman.

At one point, Tony assumed that Zoe and Ziva were alike, both strong women who belonged to the same secret society of ninja women whose names started with Z. It was a small but deadly group. But now he was starting to think they had more differences than Tony would have guessed. It was a little startling to see them together and realize that he trusted Zoe more than his own partner.

[bulisen.livejournal.com]

is it still ok to ask? if it is I would very much like to read a bit from an au where Xander joined the stargate program and used the supply/storage rooms on the base to make out with Daniel inbetween being hunted by aliens

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

It's absolutely fine. I'll work on that when I get home from work (or maybe while I'm at work ;D)

[starkat75.livejournal.com]

Gibbs as a Tokra? Cool! Like that idea, but I would also like to see a sequel. :-)
I really saw the scene before my eyes. You write always wonderful stories. Keep on doing it! :-)

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

I think that story definitely needs a sequel, a prequel, a middle... it's pretty much just a fragment, but I may write more eventually.

[lightning-skies.livejournal.com]

I really liked that hurt/comfort one where Xander ended up a souled vamp and Spike and Angel had to help him through it and in the process they got over their grudges and really bonded

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Are you talking about Deadboy and Zeppo (where he doesn't actually have a soul) or Janus Shadow (where Xander has the memories of a vampire without being one)?

[slvrbld747.livejournal.com]

I love, love, love the bit with Airman Harris in it. Laughs, it's so adorable that Daniel would pick Xander, and they would make such a cute couple, grins. Gosh, I love your stuff. Wonderful. -SB

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. I figured with Xander's luck, if he ever stepped foot on base, an alien race would immediately try to invade or at the very least, turn everyone into a horny little bunny

[wickedchocolate.livejournal.com]

Hello, I just read the stories you wrote last week based on prompts and I enjoyed the results very much. But they also make hungry for more and I got an idea what I would like to see written by you, too.

If you are still taking prompts perhaps you will consider this:

University of Oxford, GB
Being a genius and very young can make you an outsider everywhere even in an educated place like this.
But sometimes you also find unexpectedly friendship, family, even love and that could not only change three lives.
How about a story where during their studies a very young Blair (Sentinel), a young Daniel (SG1) and Adam Pierson (HL) meet and room together in Oxford and the consequences of that.

I would really like to see what you, your brain and your Muse could create out of this.

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

It took me a little longer, but I have a little snippet from Roommates just for you.


Methos watched his new roommate over his book. He was a mouse of a man with oversized glasses and a face that hadn’t quite grown into his front teeth yet. One of these days, he would be a very cute man—maybe even a handsome one—but right now he was in his awkward, geeky stage. And if Methos had hoped that a few years at Oxford would breathe some life into his old bones, this roommate was unlikely to help.

Sometimes the years weighed him down, and the enthusiasm of a young mind could save him from the dark void that so often threatened to destroy him. Most of the time, Methos was the first to live in the moment, but every once in a while he would suffer a decade when thousands of years of regrets and memories stalked him, hunted him, chased him through life. He needed something or someone to defend him from his own thoughts; however, this young Daniel seemed to disappear inside himself. He was unlikely to bring life into Methos’ lifeless world. Sighing, Methos set a few of his books up on a shelf. “So, I’m specializing in ancient literature from the Fertile Crescent; how about yourself?”

Daniel looked up and blinked owlishly, like he hadn’t expected anyone to talk to him. He looked like a startled child; for him to be in the graduate program, he must have started college very young.

“I… um, Egyptology,” Daniel said warily.

“Interesting,” Methos lied. He’d spend a hundred years as a slave getting dragged across the sands with a trading caravan. Egypt had been equal parts painful and boring.

“Literature, huh?” Daniel frowned. “Fascinating.”

Methos mentally added “bad liar” to his description of Daniel Jackson. This would be a long two years. Luckily, Methos had lived so long that even the longest two-year period passed quickly. Maybe he would go to America and spend a decade in that artist town in Arizona… Sedona. Or maybe he’d visit Seattle and spend some time looking out over the sea. Methos stared at his books and tried to find some way to break the awkward silence. He had almost settled on a random comment about local football when the door the led to the bathroom they shared with the next room burst open.

“Hey!” The young man who bounced in the room with a bright smile and elven face startled Methos so much that he dropped a book. It thumped against the floor and lay forgotten. “Wow… we’re at Oxford. Man, is anyone else going… whoa… man, I’m at Oxford? Is it just me?” The man looked even younger than Daniel and had dark curls and deep blue eyes that sparkled with life. “So, I’m Blair Sandburg. I am totally into ancient mythologies and psychology and anthropology. Who am I kidding? I’m pretty much interested in everything. I guess we’ll be sharing a bathroom. So, what’s your thing?”

Blair looked from one of them to the other, and Methos noticed that Daniel was blinking fast, a vaguely alarmed look on his face.

“Adam Pierson,” Methos said as he held his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you.” Methos figured it’d been a long time since he’d meant it when he said that, but suddenly Oxford was looking so much more interesting.

[slvrbld747.livejournal.com]

OMG! OMG! Jumps up and down excitedly, laughs delightedly, that's so excellent, huh, Dracula turned him, but he is so not Xander's Sire, and Xander's soul isn't there right now?! Or is it just not in ascendancy? OH WoW! And Hot, Hot, Hot! Xander is so going to do Angel, wicked chuckle, love, loves, loves this snippet.

And Oh, Oh, Oh, do we get to see Xander offing Dracula, nasty grin, and Xander doesn't interfere with the vampire's pleasures, eyes roll back, snickers, just the killing of innocents, huh? Which our Big, Nasty, Powerful vampire is too old, and too arrogant to do anymore anyway, laugh wickedly. Did I say I love this story, and adding to it is wonderful? It is wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. Thank you. :D -SB

[lit-gal.livejournal.com]

I had that planned from the time I had Xander dream that he saw Dracula in his dreams. Dracula thought he turned a human. He really freed Xan childe of Nusa. In this clip, the soul is temporary fucked out of Xander, but the vampire Xan also knows that Willow will do the spell and the soul will come back. Unlike Angelus, he's fine with that. The soul doesn't actually slow him down all that much. Oh, he has to be a little more careful with the humans, but he's willing to pay that price to avoid the emotionally tangled mess that is Angel/Angelus. Xander/Xan is much more healthy.

[chaoskir.livejournal.com]

WOW! Huge WOW to both of them. The fic and the pic!
I do like them both. Thanks for sharing.