Fandom stocking fics: the short ones
Dec. 25th, 2009 10:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eve11The short fics for fandom stocking
Illumined Consciousness (the So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades remix)
Nine/Turlough : 400 words : remix for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vandonovan (original WIP here)
-----
"The Doctor?" Vislor Turlough blinked at the gangly man on his doorstep. Everything was unfamiliar--the short dark hair, the lined face, blue eyes colder than he ever remembered, and the stark black leather coat looking worn and battered in the bright sun. "The Doctor?"
"The definite article, indeed. You look fantastic."
Turlough would recognize that mad, manic grin anywhere. This was the Doctor, all right, and the way he was smiling, something terrible had happened. The smile turned to a wince, and Turlough caught the other man as he sagged in the doorway.
That's just like him, to wait for a crisis to come see me. Why now? The thought surfaced with old, unpleasant memories of exile and manipulation as Turlough guided the Doctor inside toward the sitting room. It was a remnant of the person Turlough used to be, nothing more. He swept it aside with a grim joke--"Not sure I'm so fond of tall regenerations"--wrestling the weight of weary limbs to settle the Doctor on the sofa.
"Is it bad? I haven’t seen yet."
The sad half-smile was worse than the madman's grin. The Doctor had worn his hearts on his sleeve when Turlough traveled with him, and it didn't suit this incarnation at all. Turlough shuddered inwardly; he knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't stop the feeling, like he'd lost out on more than lifetimes.
How long had it been?
He hesitated. He asked. "Doctor, are you all right?"
"No. No, I'm not."
In the bright afternoon, Turlough listened to a tale of war, death and destruction on an unimaginable scale, recounted on a threadbare sofa in his sitting room. And in the ebb of the storm, the Doctor could have visited Terminus, to see Nyssa, who knew what it was like to lose her entire world. He could have chosen Earth or the Eye of Orion. Instead here was the pair of them, the Doctor's bowed head at the curve of Turlough's neck, the distance between them a year or a century, or nothing at all.
But it's you, Vislor Turlough. The thought surfaced, and Turlough knew it was petty and small and wrong; they had loved each other across lifetimes. Still, the thought surfaced, and Turlough ran a hand through the Doctor's shorn locks, hoping touch would turn it away.
You're the one who understands betrayal.
------
Moondance
Ace, Rosa Caiman (from Loups-Garoux) : 152 words : somewhat slashy ficlet forglinda_penguin
----
Grandpa, the world's been closer than it ought since I took the Wolf-King into my head. He's got a claw on my thoughts--and I can take him, sure thing I can--but he ain't gonna settle easy. Don't help that I've spent too much time around walls these days, city walls that rise up square at sunset like cow teeth grinding at the sky. And when I try to get away, out with the dust and the 'dillos, seems the world's gone and took notice of me.
There was ball lightning in the desert, or near enough. And I met another traveler. A woman on a motorbike, miles and miles from any road.
She said there was a war. She said I drew her here, and I think I know why. Because if I got the old forest in my head--rising alive from the dry bones of this desert--then, oh, Grandpa, she's got the rest.
--------
Fast-track
Mel/Donna : 75 words : humorous femslash forcosmic_llin
-----------
It was a legitimate career path. Get a temp job at some whiz-bang software company, catch the right eye, and shag the CEO in the maintenance closet. Mum would be proud.
Well, maybe not this time.
"Oh my God." Melanie Bush sagged breathless against the supply shelves. "Where did you learn that?"
"For some reason"--Donna frowned, concentrating--"I want to say Mars."
Mel laughed. "I knew I liked you. But don't get me started."
------------
Hail Mary
Ten, Mystery Crack Companions : 220 words : crackfic forlivii
--------
"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said, raking his hands through his spiky hair in frustration. "Nine hundred years old, I travel through time and space saving people, righting wrongs, protecting the Earth, that kind of thing. I even saved the whole universe a few times." He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, brown coat swaying, and continued.
"I'm giving you two a limited time offer for the adventure of a lifetime. So, are you in or out?"
Thirty seconds of silence passed as the two brothers stood in front of the TARDIS, contemplating.
"I get it," Peyton finally said. "You're like, MVP of the universe. I'm in."
"No American football references!" the Doctor countered.
"I'm out again," Peyton said. Eli punched him on the arm.
The Doctor sighed. "I'm beginning to regret my offer anyway."
"Hey," said Eli. "Have you ever had to save the world by sidestepping a charging foe, stepping up and threading the needle with a precision throw to a target at thirty yards?"
"No, it's not a game--!" the Doctor started, then stopped, rubbing his chin and looking up in thought. "Wait, yes." He looked sheepish. "Several times."
The brothers looked at each other for half a breath.
"I'm in," they both said.
-----------
So to Stone
Eight, TARDIS : 344 words : Time War fic forcosmic_celery
-------
Back when the war was little more than a few bold skirmishes, official decrees, and omnipresent screaming threats, they made a pact with each other. No weapons. No uniforms. No upgrades. If they were to fight, it would be on their terms.
They fled Gallifrey after the War Ministers tried to retro-fit a Class 90 continuum canon to her Type 40 stabilizers, and told him he should cut his hair. They shared a private, impish pleasure in using the offending canon strut circuits to disable the dry-dock lock, before jettisoning them three billion years in the past and choosing their own course to patrol. They flitted together on the seams and angles of the front planes, undermining Dalek fanaticism and bolstering allies with clever tricks.
When the first unraveling engines struck, they were flung screaming through the Vortex, tearing through the histories of three empire moons before they could stabilize enough for a crash landing.
No weapons. No uniforms. They shuddered in agony on the remnants of a newly neverborn colony, his fingers trembling as he checked her casings and shield structures, thought-murmuring defenses, defenses, defenses until the word had no meaning in his mind. He fashioned her a probability shield and they limped to the Satai cluster, bleeding time and likelihood. The Daleks followed, and they fled again. On Lihanwar, he railed against the use of paradox troops, but the Time Lord battalion commanders had no use for a paranoid backwater world, and the Lihan horologic generals wouldn't listen to a disheveled renegade. When the paradox experiment went critical, the Daleks swept in like carrion feeders, using potential bombs to rip the entire planet from the fabric of reality.
No weapons. It took a sleepless year for them to break free of the riptides in the wake of Lihanwar's negative space, and they were the only survivors. The Time Lords made him a Commander at Arms. She cringed at the touch of every War TARDIS under his orders, but the crucible worlds heeded his warnings.
Arcadia fell. Then the War began in earnest.
--------------
Permutations
Nyssa : 100 words : math-y introspection forstunt_muppet
----------------
Symmetry, not science, fueled Nyssa's fascination with fours. Algebraically, four was the first cardinality with complexity beyond basic cyclic groups. Four elements could also be paired, each locked in dihedral congruence within the whole. It was the first construction of something completely new, and only the barest hint of the strangeness in higher orders. Adric teased her when she tried to explain, but to Nyssa, four was satisfying--in a manner utterly unattainable with smaller structures.
But Adric was gone, now. And Tegan. Now, it was just her and the Doctor. Identity and zero.
Things were supposed to be simpler.
-----------------
long stories are here:
Resonance
Fair Trade
Glossolalia
Illumined Consciousness (the So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades remix)
Nine/Turlough : 400 words : remix for
vandonovan (original WIP here)-----
"The Doctor?" Vislor Turlough blinked at the gangly man on his doorstep. Everything was unfamiliar--the short dark hair, the lined face, blue eyes colder than he ever remembered, and the stark black leather coat looking worn and battered in the bright sun. "The Doctor?"
"The definite article, indeed. You look fantastic."
Turlough would recognize that mad, manic grin anywhere. This was the Doctor, all right, and the way he was smiling, something terrible had happened. The smile turned to a wince, and Turlough caught the other man as he sagged in the doorway.
That's just like him, to wait for a crisis to come see me. Why now? The thought surfaced with old, unpleasant memories of exile and manipulation as Turlough guided the Doctor inside toward the sitting room. It was a remnant of the person Turlough used to be, nothing more. He swept it aside with a grim joke--"Not sure I'm so fond of tall regenerations"--wrestling the weight of weary limbs to settle the Doctor on the sofa.
"Is it bad? I haven’t seen yet."
The sad half-smile was worse than the madman's grin. The Doctor had worn his hearts on his sleeve when Turlough traveled with him, and it didn't suit this incarnation at all. Turlough shuddered inwardly; he knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't stop the feeling, like he'd lost out on more than lifetimes.
How long had it been?
He hesitated. He asked. "Doctor, are you all right?"
"No. No, I'm not."
In the bright afternoon, Turlough listened to a tale of war, death and destruction on an unimaginable scale, recounted on a threadbare sofa in his sitting room. And in the ebb of the storm, the Doctor could have visited Terminus, to see Nyssa, who knew what it was like to lose her entire world. He could have chosen Earth or the Eye of Orion. Instead here was the pair of them, the Doctor's bowed head at the curve of Turlough's neck, the distance between them a year or a century, or nothing at all.
But it's you, Vislor Turlough. The thought surfaced, and Turlough knew it was petty and small and wrong; they had loved each other across lifetimes. Still, the thought surfaced, and Turlough ran a hand through the Doctor's shorn locks, hoping touch would turn it away.
You're the one who understands betrayal.
------
Moondance
Ace, Rosa Caiman (from Loups-Garoux) : 152 words : somewhat slashy ficlet for
glinda_penguin----
Grandpa, the world's been closer than it ought since I took the Wolf-King into my head. He's got a claw on my thoughts--and I can take him, sure thing I can--but he ain't gonna settle easy. Don't help that I've spent too much time around walls these days, city walls that rise up square at sunset like cow teeth grinding at the sky. And when I try to get away, out with the dust and the 'dillos, seems the world's gone and took notice of me.
There was ball lightning in the desert, or near enough. And I met another traveler. A woman on a motorbike, miles and miles from any road.
She said there was a war. She said I drew her here, and I think I know why. Because if I got the old forest in my head--rising alive from the dry bones of this desert--then, oh, Grandpa, she's got the rest.
--------
Fast-track
Mel/Donna : 75 words : humorous femslash for
cosmic_llin-----------
It was a legitimate career path. Get a temp job at some whiz-bang software company, catch the right eye, and shag the CEO in the maintenance closet. Mum would be proud.
Well, maybe not this time.
"Oh my God." Melanie Bush sagged breathless against the supply shelves. "Where did you learn that?"
"For some reason"--Donna frowned, concentrating--"I want to say Mars."
Mel laughed. "I knew I liked you. But don't get me started."
------------
Hail Mary
Ten, Mystery Crack Companions : 220 words : crackfic for
livii--------
"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said, raking his hands through his spiky hair in frustration. "Nine hundred years old, I travel through time and space saving people, righting wrongs, protecting the Earth, that kind of thing. I even saved the whole universe a few times." He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, brown coat swaying, and continued.
"I'm giving you two a limited time offer for the adventure of a lifetime. So, are you in or out?"
Thirty seconds of silence passed as the two brothers stood in front of the TARDIS, contemplating.
"I get it," Peyton finally said. "You're like, MVP of the universe. I'm in."
"No American football references!" the Doctor countered.
"I'm out again," Peyton said. Eli punched him on the arm.
The Doctor sighed. "I'm beginning to regret my offer anyway."
"Hey," said Eli. "Have you ever had to save the world by sidestepping a charging foe, stepping up and threading the needle with a precision throw to a target at thirty yards?"
"No, it's not a game--!" the Doctor started, then stopped, rubbing his chin and looking up in thought. "Wait, yes." He looked sheepish. "Several times."
The brothers looked at each other for half a breath.
"I'm in," they both said.
-----------
So to Stone
Eight, TARDIS : 344 words : Time War fic for
cosmic_celery-------
Back when the war was little more than a few bold skirmishes, official decrees, and omnipresent screaming threats, they made a pact with each other. No weapons. No uniforms. No upgrades. If they were to fight, it would be on their terms.
They fled Gallifrey after the War Ministers tried to retro-fit a Class 90 continuum canon to her Type 40 stabilizers, and told him he should cut his hair. They shared a private, impish pleasure in using the offending canon strut circuits to disable the dry-dock lock, before jettisoning them three billion years in the past and choosing their own course to patrol. They flitted together on the seams and angles of the front planes, undermining Dalek fanaticism and bolstering allies with clever tricks.
When the first unraveling engines struck, they were flung screaming through the Vortex, tearing through the histories of three empire moons before they could stabilize enough for a crash landing.
No weapons. No uniforms. They shuddered in agony on the remnants of a newly neverborn colony, his fingers trembling as he checked her casings and shield structures, thought-murmuring defenses, defenses, defenses until the word had no meaning in his mind. He fashioned her a probability shield and they limped to the Satai cluster, bleeding time and likelihood. The Daleks followed, and they fled again. On Lihanwar, he railed against the use of paradox troops, but the Time Lord battalion commanders had no use for a paranoid backwater world, and the Lihan horologic generals wouldn't listen to a disheveled renegade. When the paradox experiment went critical, the Daleks swept in like carrion feeders, using potential bombs to rip the entire planet from the fabric of reality.
No weapons. It took a sleepless year for them to break free of the riptides in the wake of Lihanwar's negative space, and they were the only survivors. The Time Lords made him a Commander at Arms. She cringed at the touch of every War TARDIS under his orders, but the crucible worlds heeded his warnings.
Arcadia fell. Then the War began in earnest.
--------------
Permutations
Nyssa : 100 words : math-y introspection for
stunt_muppet----------------
Symmetry, not science, fueled Nyssa's fascination with fours. Algebraically, four was the first cardinality with complexity beyond basic cyclic groups. Four elements could also be paired, each locked in dihedral congruence within the whole. It was the first construction of something completely new, and only the barest hint of the strangeness in higher orders. Adric teased her when she tried to explain, but to Nyssa, four was satisfying--in a manner utterly unattainable with smaller structures.
But Adric was gone, now. And Tegan. Now, it was just her and the Doctor. Identity and zero.
Things were supposed to be simpler.
-----------------
long stories are here:
Resonance
Fair Trade
Glossolalia
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-01-09 02:32 pm (UTC)this -> the way he was smiling, something terrible had happened is a great description of the doctor, and a great shorthand to the idea that turlough knows him very well, which is one of the reasons the doctor's come to see him. that little aside about him not going to see nyssa as well is perfect (though one can't help but think nyssa would be a terrible councillor, and that the doctor wouldn't deserve it if she did talk to him, because he probably didn't talk to her about traken) in that it leads to such a nasty realisation. it does feel like there's some truth it in, to me, which is what makes it so twist-the-heart good.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-09 03:52 pm (UTC)The Mystery Crack Companions are Peyton and Eli Manning. They are famous (American) football quarterbacks. Peyton does these really funny Sony commercials in the States. He and Eli also do some "bumpers" for ESPN's Sportscenter show--funny skits that they use to advertise the show, that play up the family relationship and the brotherly competetiveness.