Comment Drabbles!

[eponymous_rose]

Okay, you guys - it's the run-up to NaNo, so I guess I'd better get in the habit of churning out those wordy things at a prodigious rate.

Comment with a fandom and a prompt, and I will reply with a 100-word drabble.

Simple prompts, please! I'm not sure how much my brain is up to at the moment. First five comments get a reply for sure. Will try to do more of these before November!

(Eligible fandoms: Doctor Who - New and/or Classic, Man from UNCLE, Middleman, Sapphire and Steel, Sherlock Holmes, The X-Files, Star Trek: TNG (why not?). Any combination of the above. SJA and House are all right, but please don't spoil me for the latest season of either one, as I am scandalously behind on my TV.)

Edit: Brain has fallen asleep. Rest of body to follow shortly. Man, keeping it to 100 words is harder than I remember! Keep the prompts coming; I'll write more tomorrow evening.

Comments

[wondygal.livejournal.com]

WENDY WATSON. Christmas decorations.

Um, you said fandom, there, didn't you! My bad? The Middleman, yes.

[morgeil.livejournal.com]

Donna Noble and Clyde Langer: Partners in Crime. :D

[kindkit.livejournal.com]

Eighth Doctor, typewriter.

[hannahrorlove.livejournal.com]

Middleman/Star Trek: TNG - Ida versus Data.

[hms-surrender.livejournal.com]

Classic!Who: Harry and Sarah

[violetisblue.livejournal.com]

Fandom: Sapphire and Steel. Prompt: The color blue, and long goodbyes.

[eponymous-rose.livejournal.com]

You freaked me out when you edited, there - I thought you'd changed your mind, and I was almost done the drabble! Heehee.

Hands clapped over her ears, Wendy Watson faced down the approaching onslaught. "What is that?"

Her boss frowned disapprovingly at the garlands, which were gently swaying of their own volition. Wendy backed away as a clump of mistletoe in the corner started to show some ambition.

"It's Carol of the Bells, Dubbie!" he called at last. "Amplified by the Krononians to precisely the frequency needed to awaken their nascent spores. Watch the holly!"

Sometime around the third roundhouse kick to a particularly determined wreath, Wendy realized she was grinning. Her boss shot her a questioning look, and she shrugged.

"Peace on Earth," she said.

[elyssadc.livejournal.com]

Five/Nyssa, ice cream.

[stunt-muppet.livejournal.com]

Middleman, knitting.

[eponymous-rose.livejournal.com]

Donna's head hurts when she thinks too much about the things they see and do, about the old friend's mother he refuses to introduce. He's some sort of secret agent, maybe. She's never really asked about his job, and he's never asked about the glamorous field of temporary employment.

They've both got the habit of showing up in time to keep the sky from falling.

"Sometimes," she says, laughing as they run from the latest batch of mad scientists, "I'm not sure who I am."

"You're Donna. That's all that matters." He grins, she grabs his hand, and they round the corner together.

[fleurette.livejournal.com]

Tenth Doctor, Donna: pain

[infiniteviking]

DW;MM: Wendy Watson, Jo Grant, my boss does that too. :D

[wondygal.livejournal.com]

Oops, sorry! I realized later that you might have wanted to write, I don't know, Lacey/Pip (Lip? Pacey? Heee.) and I would have been limiting you. Anyway, yes, that was hugely adorable and sweet and perfect! Wheeee!

[morgeil.livejournal.com]

*applause*

Okay, now I'm a bit in love with the idea of Sarah having Clyde keep tabs on Donna. Damn you.

[amaresu]

Some sort of Middleman/Sapphire and Steel crossover.

[oldstarnewshine.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who; Some sort of discussion involving the Master (pick a Master, any Master) and the Evil Overlord list.

[eponymous-rose.livejournal.com]

Fitz sighs. "Why use that when the TARDIS will type up anything you need?"

Scowling, the Doctor picks away at the typewriter. "This has character."

"So does your spelling. Since when does 'twelve' have an 'm' in it?"

The Doctor pauses. "It's an archaic form."

"And speaking of archaic-"

"Fitz, it's a perfectly good machine!" The Doctor pats it reassuringly, and it makes a disconsolate grinding noise.

Fitz takes a few steps back. "Does this have anything to do with losing that typing competition on Garraulin?"

"No," says the Doctor, and winces at another error. "Yes."

Fitz grins. "Wake me when we get to the twenty-first century."

[pimpmytardis.livejournal.com]

Middleman and ST: TNG. Ida/Q, perhaps?? :D

[kindkit.livejournal.com]

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

So cute! Thank you.

[arefadedaway.livejournal.com]

Middleman/MUNCLE. "So you've dealt with these in your line of work too, huh?"

[airie-fairy.livejournal.com]

...d'you, I only just realized the image in that icon is a hand holding a pen and not in fact a blackbird. *shame*

Can I beg a prompt anyway? Eight and Nyssa, booze and commiseration and more booze.

[biichan.livejournal.com]

WENDY AND LACEY WATCH DOCTOR WHO!

[rachelbeann.livejournal.com]

X-Files, cold pizza? ;)

[prof-pangaea.livejournal.com]

i was going to ask for a nate/jackie drabble but DAMN you have a lot of requests. anyway you will be fine with NaNo, i am sure. your months of writing fic everyday will come back and inform your brain and fingers of how to do it all. :D

[northern_magic]

Nine, Evelyn Smythe, blank books

(and I should really be doing the same but between one thing and another and that regional email with the chipper 'November's almost here!' indirectly reminding me my paper is due in a month and a half, ahh.)

I'll give you several options 'cause I'm nice like that and not trying to scam you at all

[tigerkat24.livejournal.com]

Ben and Polly being Awesome, with or without Doctor.

Evelyn Smythe and Sherlock Holmes. Six and Watson optional but excellent.

Evelyn Smythe and Sarah Jane Smith, any time, any way, anywhere.

[scarletsherlock.livejournal.com]

Am I too late??

Luke likes to read the Sherlock Holmes stories, but Clyde has never read them.

[elliptic-eye.livejournal.com]

Who/SH crossover | Eight, Holmes | something having some fun with the fact that both characters are violinists

[eponymous-rose.livejournal.com]

(I just had to cheat with this one!)

His fingers are cold, brushing the nape of her neck. She shivers before she remembers she's really not supposed to notice that sort of thing.

"You seem bored, Ida," he says, and she feels her processors shift under his eyes. "I can't imagine there's much to interest you here."

She shrugs. "It's a living," she says.

He raises an eyebrow and smirks like it's the funniest thing he's heard all millennium. Ignoring the hand still hovering over her shoulder, she turns away and calmly reminds herself, in great detail, why it would be a very bad idea to attempt to do him some serious bodily harm.

"Oh, come on," he says, and pats her shoulder, sending a new set of shivers through her CPU. "Where's that cheerful Ida smile?"

She grits her teeth and imagines several things that might even turn Sensei Ping's stomach. "You mean this one?"

He pinches her cheek. "That's the one. Smile like you mean it!"

With a sigh, she swats his hand away. "Are we done, here?"

Clearing his throat, he holds up a pile of papers. She snatches them from his grasp and stalks out.

Dudley Do-Right himself is watching as his brainless protegée pages through a massive tome of some sort - she seems to be wishing for something with more pictures. The sight cheers Ida somewhat, and she slaps the papers down with a bit more enthusiasm than she'd ordinarily muster.

"New orders from O2STK," she says, and grins.

[pimpmytardis.livejournal.com]

THIS EXPLAINS EVERYTHING. Thank you, that's going straight to the folder in my brain marked "personal canon."

Funniest thing I've read all week. You're awesome. <3

Part 1

[eponymous-rose.livejournal.com]

(I totally cheated, so this is in two parts. I think this might be a sign that I need to get some TNG fic out of my system at some point. Ahem.)

"This is extremely interesting," called Data, for about the fifteenth time in the past minute.

Geordi suppressed a groan as he rejoined his friend, wondering whether he was about to bear witness to the rediscovery of yet another fascinating brand of twenty-first century dust. "Look, Data," he said, "I'm sure all the extra bits of mold in the air are fascinating, but-"

He paused, letting his enhanced vision take in the dimensions and theoretical scope of the piece of machinery before him. "Oh," he said, very quietly.

"Most peculiar," agreed Data. "And almost certainly not native twenty-first century design."

"It's a Hadar." The new voice put Geordi immediately in mind of a particularly persnickety professor at the Academy, and he found himself simultaneously straightening his posture and panicking about a Quantum Astrophysics assignment he'd undoubtedly forgotten to hand in. The owner of the voice strode forward, and Geordi thought even Data looked a bit subdued at her expression. "And just who are you clowns?"

"We are not-" began Data.

Geordi thought it better to cut him off before he really got started. "Just tourists," he said. "Took a wrong turn."

"Through the security system," the woman said. "So that none of the cameras caught you."

Data gave an unusual, high-pitched laugh, which cut off abruptly. "By contemporary standards of etiquette and society, this is quite an awkward situation," he said, and trilled the mechanized laugh again.

Geordi winced. "I can't take you anywhere," he muttered, and resolved to have a few strong words with Data about the suitable times for testing his laughing program.

The woman was still staring at Data. "Has he been sampling the special brownies?"

Part 2

[eponymous-rose.livejournal.com]

Before Data could dig them in deeper, Geordi cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and faced the woman head-on for the first time.

Any ambitions he'd had of concocting a brilliant story (which, of course, had absolutely nothing to do with an alien race's tampering with time travel technology and their subsequent accidental transportation) fled from his mind as he really looked at her. Ordinarily, he saw veins and capillaries, the heat pulsing unevenly through a humanoid body. With Data's semi-biological functions, he at least saw the regulated signature that marked optimal functionality.

This woman was different - her infrared scan seemed as cold and mechanical as one of the ship's computers. "You're a robot," he said, and felt he should add something marginally more polite. "Um. Good for you."

"And you're a bunch of disgusting goo held inside some flaps of skin," she retorted. "How did you get in here?"

"Geordi," said Data - he'd whipped out a tricorder at some point, and was now holding it towards the woman. "You are quite correct. She is an artificial construct. Since this level of technology is simply impossible at this point in Earth's history-"

Geordi cut in. "It is the twenty-first century, right?"

The woman's glare was answer enough.

Data waited for a few moments, then continued, exactly where he'd left off. "-I believe it is safe to assume that we have crossed into an alternate universe, as Ma'Kat'Lak was theorizing."

Geordi whistled. "Damn. I wasn't expecting that. Will they be able to pull us out?"

The woman was staring at Data again, but this time, the edge had gone out of her expression. "You know, you look familiar."

Data ignored her - or, more likely, had just stored her words away for future processing - and turned to Geordi. "I believe it is not entirely beyond their means."

He managed a wry grin. "Do you think we'll be getting out anytime soon, or should we start thinking about finding a way to pay the rent?"

The woman was now peering straight at Data. "You look almost exactly like him. I mean, the skin's way off, and the eyes, but you look just like him."

Staring at the tricorder, Data held up a hand. "It seems they have already started the reversal of the process. We should be transported momentarily."

Geordi grinned at the woman. "Sorry to impose," he said, and felt the peculiar tearing of his molecules reconstituting themselves in a different version of reality. "We'll just be going."

They disappeared. Ida scowled at the place where they'd been, submitting it to the sort of inspection usually reserved for mahjong tables. Then she grinned. "Of course! Noonian Soong! Hell of a Middleman. Shame about that dimensional collapse. Wonder whatever became of him?"

[hannahrorlove.livejournal.com]

That was made of win and glory. Wheee!

[eponymous-rose.livejournal.com]

...whoa, that awesome icon made me do a double-take - I just started watching the pilot of SGA five minutes ago! Crazy.

And thank you for the awesome prompt! That was fun to write.

[hannahrorlove.livejournal.com]

The quote's from a modern B-Movie, The Lost Skeleton of Cadaveras or something, and the best thing is that it's so easy to imagine Rodney saying it.

You're very welcome. I'm going to have to share it around.