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misscamThese are the last of the requests to get ficlets, the rest must wait for proper fics. Sorry!
First patch is here.
This patch's prompts:
sonbon71: NuTrek - perhaps in some time warping way - a Janeway or Beverley Crusher involved with NuTrek Uhura in some way.
stringertheory: Doctor Who, Doctor, Donna, boatswain's call
siraj: World of Warcraft. Something involving High Confessor Paletress and Grand Admiral Westwind. (Combined with sinneahtes's suggested sentence.)
whatever_lj: BSG, Adama-Roslin, a camera
II
Whose Future?, g, gen, nu!Trek. Set after the movie. As requested bysonbon71: NuTrek - perhaps in some time warping way - a Janeway or Beverley Crusher involved with NuTrek Uhura in some way.
It's happening again
From the moment the unknown woman sits down next to her and speak her first sentence, Uhura just knows.
"Lieutenant Commander Uhura."
"Just Lieutenant," Uhura corrects, giving the woman a long, pointed look. Blonde, gair gathered rather primly, authority about her despite a lower statute. Hmm.
"I see," the woman says. Her voice is definitely distinctive. "Right place, wrong time."
"Oh," Uhura says, sighing. "Let's see, first we had future!Spock, then future!Scotty managed to beam himself through time and alternate dimensions here and our Scotty still haven't found a way to beam him back. Then there was future!Kirk and even!more!future!Kirk and three Kirks at once can shortcircuit any universe. And the less said about future!McCoy getting drunk with our McCoy, the better. So, which future is you?"
"Admiral Janeway," the stranger says, extending her hand. "The future you need to miss a Borg transmition to have."
"Right," Uhura says, briefly shaking it before getting out her future planner. "Would this be the same one Captain Picard told me I had to pick up to ensure his future or not?"
II
Listen, g, Doctor Who. Set after the series four finale. As requested bystringertheory: Doctor, Donna, boatswain's call.
She keeps listening for it.
She doesn't know what it is, just that she'll know it when she hears it. Know it and then know everything, like a curtain gone up. How she is so certain of this, she doesn't know. It seems to come from dreams she can't quite remember and words her mind can't quite form and the man who seem to be a shadow in her memory.
She just knows that sound is out there somewhere and she'll hear it. One day, she'll hear it.
One day she does. The sound of the TARDIS, like a boatswain's call that not even the sea can drown.
The fog lifts.
II
Cold Like Steel, pg, World of Warcraft. As requested bysiraj: World of Warcraft. Something involving High Confessor Paletress and Grand Admiral Westwind. (Combined with sinneahtes's suggested sentence.)
It's so cold in Northrend. So very cold, and yet High Confessor Paletress of the Argent Crusade stands at the front of the ship as it nears land. The wind is like a whip of frost against her face, but she'd had much experience in steeling herself.
They've all had, the onslaught of death that hit their kingdom ensuring it. Those who fell were often risen from their graves to server their killer in undeath. The army of the Lich King, the one she is here to help defeat.
She knows another fleet has tried the same. The Scarlet Crusade, those who steeled themself so much their compassion was lost beneath it and their enemies became everyone.
She must remember that lesson. To hold to the light even in vengeance.
Westwind didn't. Once, they were fighting the undead together. More than on one occasion, she saved his life and him hers, forced together by cicumstance and the Scourge. She even came to...
No. She will not think of that. She will keep her eye on Northrend, a mysterious light streaking across the sky as if to point to it.
The Scarlet Crusade's fleet came to a dire end here. She wonders if Westwind has died with so many others, or if she will find he still lives with what remains of their fleet.
She wonders if she even wants to know.
It's so cold in Northrend. It seems, somehow, a fitting grave.
II
Remember Me By, g, Adama/Roslin, BSG. Reference to "Blood on the Scales". As requested bywhatever_lj: BSG, Adama-Roslin, a camera.
One thing commanding a battlestar soon teaches you is too see everything and pretend not to notice most of it. Or, if a failure at it, find a second in command who excels.
Bill thinks himself decent enough at it, even if what he should have seen and didn't weigh heavily at him too. (Gaeta.) He definitely has no problems noticing the camera that Laura has discreetly carried around more than once.
He waits for her to tell him why, but she keeps saying nothing until one day it just isn't there anymore and a new picture on his desk is instead. It isn't Laura who's taken it, as she's in the frame with him. He still suspects it's with her camera at her request, an image of an unguarded moment of Bill and Laura that isn't posed.
Laura is sleeping lightly as he slides into his bunk next to her, opening her eyes when he's settled in.
"Why?" he asks softly, her fingers sliding over his cheek and to his lips as he kisses them. "I saw the new picture on my desk."
"I wanted you to have a picture of us that isn't just the President and the Admiral," she says softly and closes her eyes again. "Goodnight, Bill."
Her breathing steadies as she falls asleep; he stays awake a while to make sure it doesn't die.
First patch is here.
This patch's prompts:
sonbon71: NuTrek - perhaps in some time warping way - a Janeway or Beverley Crusher involved with NuTrek Uhura in some way. stringertheory: Doctor Who, Doctor, Donna, boatswain's callsiraj: World of Warcraft. Something involving High Confessor Paletress and Grand Admiral Westwind. (Combined with sinneahtes's suggested sentence.)whatever_lj: BSG, Adama-Roslin, a cameraII
Whose Future?, g, gen, nu!Trek. Set after the movie. As requested by
sonbon71: NuTrek - perhaps in some time warping way - a Janeway or Beverley Crusher involved with NuTrek Uhura in some way.It's happening again
From the moment the unknown woman sits down next to her and speak her first sentence, Uhura just knows.
"Lieutenant Commander Uhura."
"Just Lieutenant," Uhura corrects, giving the woman a long, pointed look. Blonde, gair gathered rather primly, authority about her despite a lower statute. Hmm.
"I see," the woman says. Her voice is definitely distinctive. "Right place, wrong time."
"Oh," Uhura says, sighing. "Let's see, first we had future!Spock, then future!Scotty managed to beam himself through time and alternate dimensions here and our Scotty still haven't found a way to beam him back. Then there was future!Kirk and even!more!future!Kirk and three Kirks at once can shortcircuit any universe. And the less said about future!McCoy getting drunk with our McCoy, the better. So, which future is you?"
"Admiral Janeway," the stranger says, extending her hand. "The future you need to miss a Borg transmition to have."
"Right," Uhura says, briefly shaking it before getting out her future planner. "Would this be the same one Captain Picard told me I had to pick up to ensure his future or not?"
II
Listen, g, Doctor Who. Set after the series four finale. As requested by
stringertheory: Doctor, Donna, boatswain's call.She keeps listening for it.
She doesn't know what it is, just that she'll know it when she hears it. Know it and then know everything, like a curtain gone up. How she is so certain of this, she doesn't know. It seems to come from dreams she can't quite remember and words her mind can't quite form and the man who seem to be a shadow in her memory.
She just knows that sound is out there somewhere and she'll hear it. One day, she'll hear it.
One day she does. The sound of the TARDIS, like a boatswain's call that not even the sea can drown.
The fog lifts.
II
Cold Like Steel, pg, World of Warcraft. As requested by
siraj: World of Warcraft. Something involving High Confessor Paletress and Grand Admiral Westwind. (Combined with sinneahtes's suggested sentence.)It's so cold in Northrend. So very cold, and yet High Confessor Paletress of the Argent Crusade stands at the front of the ship as it nears land. The wind is like a whip of frost against her face, but she'd had much experience in steeling herself.
They've all had, the onslaught of death that hit their kingdom ensuring it. Those who fell were often risen from their graves to server their killer in undeath. The army of the Lich King, the one she is here to help defeat.
She knows another fleet has tried the same. The Scarlet Crusade, those who steeled themself so much their compassion was lost beneath it and their enemies became everyone.
She must remember that lesson. To hold to the light even in vengeance.
Westwind didn't. Once, they were fighting the undead together. More than on one occasion, she saved his life and him hers, forced together by cicumstance and the Scourge. She even came to...
No. She will not think of that. She will keep her eye on Northrend, a mysterious light streaking across the sky as if to point to it.
The Scarlet Crusade's fleet came to a dire end here. She wonders if Westwind has died with so many others, or if she will find he still lives with what remains of their fleet.
She wonders if she even wants to know.
It's so cold in Northrend. It seems, somehow, a fitting grave.
II
Remember Me By, g, Adama/Roslin, BSG. Reference to "Blood on the Scales". As requested by
whatever_lj: BSG, Adama-Roslin, a camera.One thing commanding a battlestar soon teaches you is too see everything and pretend not to notice most of it. Or, if a failure at it, find a second in command who excels.
Bill thinks himself decent enough at it, even if what he should have seen and didn't weigh heavily at him too. (Gaeta.) He definitely has no problems noticing the camera that Laura has discreetly carried around more than once.
He waits for her to tell him why, but she keeps saying nothing until one day it just isn't there anymore and a new picture on his desk is instead. It isn't Laura who's taken it, as she's in the frame with him. He still suspects it's with her camera at her request, an image of an unguarded moment of Bill and Laura that isn't posed.
Laura is sleeping lightly as he slides into his bunk next to her, opening her eyes when he's settled in.
"Why?" he asks softly, her fingers sliding over his cheek and to his lips as he kisses them. "I saw the new picture on my desk."
"I wanted you to have a picture of us that isn't just the President and the Admiral," she says softly and closes her eyes again. "Goodnight, Bill."
Her breathing steadies as she falls asleep; he stays awake a while to make sure it doesn't die.
