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Ficathonficsomg.
AHEM. These fics are for the Female Gen Ficathon, and, as such, were written for it. The first two were for the prompts, the third was a mis-read of the first prompt. Oh well.
Fandom #1 Request: Firefly
Character(s) Request: Saffron and Zoe
Element/Prompt: Dust
Absolute No-Nos: *thinks* Nothing applicable here, I think. Except to make it clear - fic about the characters, not the actors
Disclaimer: Note mine. 13+
Shooting Solution
by ALC Punk!
"The Cap'n says I'm not allowed to shoot you," Zoe fingered the butt of the gun tucked into its holster, and eyed Saffron.
Rolling her eyes, Saffron crossed her arms. "That's so kind of him."
"It doesn't," the other woman replied, "Mean I don't want to."
"Oh, even better. If he ordered you to, would you bark like a dog?"
"No."
Saffron shrugged, "At least you appear to have a mind of your own."
Tightening her lips, Zoe decided it was pointless even talking to Saffron. The confidence trickster was definitely not worth the time of day. It boggled her mind that the Captain still had anything to do with her. She was beginning to wonder about his sanity. Perhaps Inara being gone was affecting him more than he cared to admit.
Or maybe he was just an idiot.
Saffron was practicing pouting. Or something. Her lips were moving but no sound was coming out.
Zoe considered shooting her again.
Yes. Captain Reynolds was definitely just an idiot. But he was the boss.
"Do you think he misses me?"
"Like a hole in the head."
Saffron sighed, "Really, I don't understand all of this animosity. I'm just trying to help."
"Yes. Except your kind of help ends up with things like the Cap'n naked in the desert."
A smirk curved the redhead's lips, "Did he get dust in unmentionable places?"
"I didn't ask."
"Pity." Saffron uncrossed her arms and gave a little stretch, "Is this going to be much longer?"
"I have no idea." Not that she would tell Saffron. After all, having a slight advantage over her would be nice. Something other than a nice gun pointed at her head. Especially since she couldn't actually pull the trigger. Zoe was beginning to wonder if you could cause things to happen just by wishing really hard.
Well, if you were River, maybe.
"I'm bored," Saffron announced.
"Good."
Saffron scowled, "You're annoying."
"Thank you."
Apparently realizing this wasn't getting her anywhere, Saffron shifted gears, smiling slightly, "Look. You know and I know that--"
"Stop right there. I'm not going to say yes."
"But you would say no to me having a nap?"
Zoe considered. "If I tie you to a chair, I'll say yes to the nap."
A pout curved Saffron's lips, "Unfair." She tilted her head, "Would I get a good-night kiss as consolation?"
"I," Zoe said dryly, "Don't think anyone's gonna be kissin' you anytime soon."
"Such a pity. After all, you really are quite remarkable."
Zoe unholstered her gun and idly aimed at Saffron, "If you're trying to provoke me into shooting you, it won't take much more."
"You? Shoot me? But I thought the Captain said I was to stay safe." Smiling smugly, Saffron pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Besides, I'm too pretty to die."
"Who said anything about killing?"
Seriously. Malcolm Reynolds would understand. Just one hole in little Saffron, and all of Zoe's irritations would be over for the day. Then she could go back to Serenity and sleep with her husband.
Yep. Things were definitely looking uo for this plan.
Sadly, before she could execute her decision, Mal showed up. The caper they went on, however, is a story for another time.
-f-
Fandom #2 Request: Aliens
Character(s) Request: Vasquez (sp?)
Element/Prompt: Cordite
Absolute No-Nos: Please go light on any military-bashing, fic about the character, not the actor.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Pre-movie speculation. 13+ Language.
Of Fools and Dreams
by ALC Punk!
The sweat on her back reminds her she's alive. The taste of the flashlight between her teeth grounds her. Makes her hands steady as she winds the wire around the lock.
Hurry.
Thirty more seconds, and the guard will be back for his rounds.
Outside, the rain falls, turning the grit in the streets to sludge. Blue-black light from the night-lamps turn the streets greyer than ever. Slick black water and neon shining on puddles.
Vasquez tightens the wire, sets the lighter against the bottom and watches the catalytic reaction flare up.
Then its duck back around the corner, counting the seconds until the sound of the returning guard almost gets her caught.
Flashlight to the back of his skull while he's staring at the now-open safe.
She doesn't bother catching him as he falls, instead, she moves and empties the loot efficiently. Forty seconds, and she's done and stepping over the inert body, heading out through the hall.
Ten seconds and she's out in the cold and the rain, boots splashing the first puddle she hits, scattering the reflected neon.
"Freeze." The voice is cold and precise.
Vasquez turns towards it, swinging the bag and catching the officer by surprise. His gun goes flying, and she punches him in the gut before he recovers. While he's going down, she's whirling to kick his partner.
A third tackles her around the waist, and she goes down into the puddle, growling and fighting. Water soaks her shirt and pants, but she's more interested in grinding the officer's face into the mud. The fourth kicks her in the side, making her gasp in pain.
They pile onto her, trying to hold her down. It takes three of them to get the cuffs on her, and she leaves them with scratches and bruises.
A sense of satisfaction fills her when one of them slams the butt of his gun into her jaw. It's swiftly followed by everything going black.
-=-
"Good, you're awake."
They stuck her in a chair and her back hurts. Vasquez slits her eyes and lets loose a torrent of abuse, her mouth moving too fast. Words her mother used to hurl at her father, brothers and her. She has the satisfaction of seeing the man's face go red before he slams a fist onto the table.
"That's enough."
"Fuck a duck, asshole."
He glares, hands twitching. "You have a choice in front of you. You can either go to prison for the rest of your life--not long, given your violent reputation."
A sneer curls her lip up, "Gonna have me killed? Keep your lily-white hands clean? That's good for you, yeah."
"Or," he steps back, as if putting more distance between them makes him feel better, "You join the Colonial marines, and they'll keep your ass in line."
She shifts, and the drying mud cracks on her arm. "Not much of a choice."
A smile touches his lips, full of mocking. "Not at all."
Marines. Jail. Really no choice at all. "Sign me up to shoot the big guns, baby."
-=-
Ten weeks of basic doesn't break her. Not only that, but she falls in with a guy named Drake. They end up trading stories. Pretty soon, he's got her back and she's got his.
Four months out on their first bug hunt, she saves his life.
He never forgets it.
-f-
Disclaimer: Not mine. Blah. Firefly. Saffron and Inara (how did I mix up Inara and Zoe? I DON'T KNOW). 1000 words.
Steel Opera
by ALC Punk!
"This is your fault."
Inara Serra rolled her eyes, and tried to ignore the cramping in her shoulders from the strain on her arms. Being tied to the wall, with Saffron chained next to her wasn't exactly conducive to meditation. "My fault."
"Your fault." The redhead sneered, "If you weren't so hung up on Malcolm Reynolds--"
"I am not hung up on him."
"Yes, of course. You didn't give up your gun because they had him in chains. At all."
It wasn't Inara's fault she couldn't watch them shoot Mal. Really. It would be like having a puppy kicked. Except less, well, cute. Come to think of it, a puppy was far cuter. She'd have to look into owning one. "Well, you have to admit, your plan sucked."
"My plan sucked because you people--"
"Hey." Inara interrupted, "I wasn't supposed to be here, remember?" She tried not to bang her head against the wall. It would hurt, and, really, be pointless. As pointless as coming to this gods-forsaken rock of a planet was. As pointless as trying to save anything and anyone. As pointless as being chained to a wall next to the whore of Babylon.
Saffron snapped something at her in Chinese.
Raising an eyebrow, Inara replied coolly, "Not anatomically correct, but thank you for the suggestion. I might add it to my repertoire."
"You would."
Inara smiled sweetly, "Oh, come now, Saffy, you're just jealous that your training wasn't as good."
"We can't all go to the Guild."
"Not all of us are qualified," Inara agreed.
Saffron glared, but clamped her lips closed on whatever she was about to say.
A moment later, the man who'd shanghaied them sauntered in, smiling. "Ah, I hope you two are havin' a good time."
"What are you planning to do with us?" Inara asked calmly, trying to gauge how close he was going to get.
"Well, now, that would be telling." Captain Jack Gough moved closer, eyeing them both with calculation. "You'll fetch a pretty price as brides, I'm thinkin'."
"I've got a better idea. You could unchain us and we could give you a demonstration of our talents."
He chuckled at Saffron, "I don't think so, darlin'. I've heard about you. But," he moved closer to her and ducked his head, "I don't mind testing the goods out."
Inara rolled her eyes as he kissed the redhead. First being chained to a wall, now having to endure the impotent advances of an imbecile. She started counting backwards from one thousand. In Chinese.
When the Captain bumped into her, she opened her mouth to snap at him for interrupting the count. Then stopped. His eyes were glazing and a moment later, he sagged to the floor at her feet.
"There's a key in his pocket." Saffron directed.
"I remember." Eyeing the distance, Inara was suddenly glad she'd worn flats this morning. They went so well with the watered silk gown she was wearing, too. She carefully toed one of them off, then flexed her toes and used her foot to hook the keys out of the unconscious man's pocket. "How long before he wakes?"
"At least three hours."
"Good." Inara kicked, and the keys flew up in an arc, she caught them neatly in her right hand, then began working at the lock on her manacle. It was a good thing it wasn't exceedingly tight, or she would have had to undo Saffron first. And the bitch would probably have left her chained to a wall.
"You're good."
"Training, remember?" Inara pulled one hand free, then unlocked the other cuff. She stepped back into her shoe before reaching down to pull the Captain's gun from its holster. A slightly utilitarian weapon, but it would do. She tucked it into her waistband before sighing and moving to release Saffron.
"I didn't think you'd let me loose."
Inara tucked the keys into her pocket and wrapped her hand around the butt of the gun, "I'm regretting it already."
Smirking, Saffron leaned closer, "You're beginning to like me."
"No," Inara pointed the gun at her, "I'm not. Now get out of my way so I can get off this planet."
"So you can go back to Captain Reynolds?" Saffron made the question mocking, as if that was the worst plan she'd ever considered.
Seriously, she should have left her chained up. "My business is not yours."
"And yet they both pay well."
It was a point, but Inara doubted the Companion Guild would see it quite that way. "I'll have no use for this man and his ship--once I've been returned to my own."
Avarice flashed in Saffron's eyes, and she nodded, "It's a deal."
"Don't try to cross me."
Spreading her hands, Saffron raised her eyebrows, "As if I'd dare."
She really should just shoot her. Inara turned away and headed for the cockpit, "I'm sure you would. But you don't like being shot."
"Very few people do."
The controls were similar enough to give Inara little trouble, and they were shortly on the way to where she'd left her shuttle. Saffron seemed to have taken a hint and kept her mouth shut until just before they reached their destination. "You sure you don't want to become a team? We could rule the galaxy."
"Until the first chance you got to shove me out an airlock for the profit."
"Please, I'd wait longer than that."
Inara smiled slightly and set the ship down, then stood, "I'm sure you would. Now get out of my way, or do I have to shoot you?"
"Have fun chasing Malcolm Reynolds."
"Have fun getting shot by the scum of the Alliance."
"If it pays..."
Shaking her head, Inara stepped down the ramp and eyed her shuttle.
Behind her, the engines of the ship started, the wind kicking up, spattering her skirts with dust and debris. She frowned, eyeing the now filthy silk.
Definitely should have shot her.
-f-
Fandom #1 Request: Firefly
Character(s) Request: Saffron and Zoe
Element/Prompt: Dust
Absolute No-Nos: *thinks* Nothing applicable here, I think. Except to make it clear - fic about the characters, not the actors
Disclaimer: Note mine. 13+
Shooting Solution
by ALC Punk!
"The Cap'n says I'm not allowed to shoot you," Zoe fingered the butt of the gun tucked into its holster, and eyed Saffron.
Rolling her eyes, Saffron crossed her arms. "That's so kind of him."
"It doesn't," the other woman replied, "Mean I don't want to."
"Oh, even better. If he ordered you to, would you bark like a dog?"
"No."
Saffron shrugged, "At least you appear to have a mind of your own."
Tightening her lips, Zoe decided it was pointless even talking to Saffron. The confidence trickster was definitely not worth the time of day. It boggled her mind that the Captain still had anything to do with her. She was beginning to wonder about his sanity. Perhaps Inara being gone was affecting him more than he cared to admit.
Or maybe he was just an idiot.
Saffron was practicing pouting. Or something. Her lips were moving but no sound was coming out.
Zoe considered shooting her again.
Yes. Captain Reynolds was definitely just an idiot. But he was the boss.
"Do you think he misses me?"
"Like a hole in the head."
Saffron sighed, "Really, I don't understand all of this animosity. I'm just trying to help."
"Yes. Except your kind of help ends up with things like the Cap'n naked in the desert."
A smirk curved the redhead's lips, "Did he get dust in unmentionable places?"
"I didn't ask."
"Pity." Saffron uncrossed her arms and gave a little stretch, "Is this going to be much longer?"
"I have no idea." Not that she would tell Saffron. After all, having a slight advantage over her would be nice. Something other than a nice gun pointed at her head. Especially since she couldn't actually pull the trigger. Zoe was beginning to wonder if you could cause things to happen just by wishing really hard.
Well, if you were River, maybe.
"I'm bored," Saffron announced.
"Good."
Saffron scowled, "You're annoying."
"Thank you."
Apparently realizing this wasn't getting her anywhere, Saffron shifted gears, smiling slightly, "Look. You know and I know that--"
"Stop right there. I'm not going to say yes."
"But you would say no to me having a nap?"
Zoe considered. "If I tie you to a chair, I'll say yes to the nap."
A pout curved Saffron's lips, "Unfair." She tilted her head, "Would I get a good-night kiss as consolation?"
"I," Zoe said dryly, "Don't think anyone's gonna be kissin' you anytime soon."
"Such a pity. After all, you really are quite remarkable."
Zoe unholstered her gun and idly aimed at Saffron, "If you're trying to provoke me into shooting you, it won't take much more."
"You? Shoot me? But I thought the Captain said I was to stay safe." Smiling smugly, Saffron pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Besides, I'm too pretty to die."
"Who said anything about killing?"
Seriously. Malcolm Reynolds would understand. Just one hole in little Saffron, and all of Zoe's irritations would be over for the day. Then she could go back to Serenity and sleep with her husband.
Yep. Things were definitely looking uo for this plan.
Sadly, before she could execute her decision, Mal showed up. The caper they went on, however, is a story for another time.
-f-
Fandom #2 Request: Aliens
Character(s) Request: Vasquez (sp?)
Element/Prompt: Cordite
Absolute No-Nos: Please go light on any military-bashing, fic about the character, not the actor.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Pre-movie speculation. 13+ Language.
Of Fools and Dreams
by ALC Punk!
The sweat on her back reminds her she's alive. The taste of the flashlight between her teeth grounds her. Makes her hands steady as she winds the wire around the lock.
Hurry.
Thirty more seconds, and the guard will be back for his rounds.
Outside, the rain falls, turning the grit in the streets to sludge. Blue-black light from the night-lamps turn the streets greyer than ever. Slick black water and neon shining on puddles.
Vasquez tightens the wire, sets the lighter against the bottom and watches the catalytic reaction flare up.
Then its duck back around the corner, counting the seconds until the sound of the returning guard almost gets her caught.
Flashlight to the back of his skull while he's staring at the now-open safe.
She doesn't bother catching him as he falls, instead, she moves and empties the loot efficiently. Forty seconds, and she's done and stepping over the inert body, heading out through the hall.
Ten seconds and she's out in the cold and the rain, boots splashing the first puddle she hits, scattering the reflected neon.
"Freeze." The voice is cold and precise.
Vasquez turns towards it, swinging the bag and catching the officer by surprise. His gun goes flying, and she punches him in the gut before he recovers. While he's going down, she's whirling to kick his partner.
A third tackles her around the waist, and she goes down into the puddle, growling and fighting. Water soaks her shirt and pants, but she's more interested in grinding the officer's face into the mud. The fourth kicks her in the side, making her gasp in pain.
They pile onto her, trying to hold her down. It takes three of them to get the cuffs on her, and she leaves them with scratches and bruises.
A sense of satisfaction fills her when one of them slams the butt of his gun into her jaw. It's swiftly followed by everything going black.
-=-
"Good, you're awake."
They stuck her in a chair and her back hurts. Vasquez slits her eyes and lets loose a torrent of abuse, her mouth moving too fast. Words her mother used to hurl at her father, brothers and her. She has the satisfaction of seeing the man's face go red before he slams a fist onto the table.
"That's enough."
"Fuck a duck, asshole."
He glares, hands twitching. "You have a choice in front of you. You can either go to prison for the rest of your life--not long, given your violent reputation."
A sneer curls her lip up, "Gonna have me killed? Keep your lily-white hands clean? That's good for you, yeah."
"Or," he steps back, as if putting more distance between them makes him feel better, "You join the Colonial marines, and they'll keep your ass in line."
She shifts, and the drying mud cracks on her arm. "Not much of a choice."
A smile touches his lips, full of mocking. "Not at all."
Marines. Jail. Really no choice at all. "Sign me up to shoot the big guns, baby."
-=-
Ten weeks of basic doesn't break her. Not only that, but she falls in with a guy named Drake. They end up trading stories. Pretty soon, he's got her back and she's got his.
Four months out on their first bug hunt, she saves his life.
He never forgets it.
-f-
Disclaimer: Not mine. Blah. Firefly. Saffron and Inara (how did I mix up Inara and Zoe? I DON'T KNOW). 1000 words.
Steel Opera
by ALC Punk!
"This is your fault."
Inara Serra rolled her eyes, and tried to ignore the cramping in her shoulders from the strain on her arms. Being tied to the wall, with Saffron chained next to her wasn't exactly conducive to meditation. "My fault."
"Your fault." The redhead sneered, "If you weren't so hung up on Malcolm Reynolds--"
"I am not hung up on him."
"Yes, of course. You didn't give up your gun because they had him in chains. At all."
It wasn't Inara's fault she couldn't watch them shoot Mal. Really. It would be like having a puppy kicked. Except less, well, cute. Come to think of it, a puppy was far cuter. She'd have to look into owning one. "Well, you have to admit, your plan sucked."
"My plan sucked because you people--"
"Hey." Inara interrupted, "I wasn't supposed to be here, remember?" She tried not to bang her head against the wall. It would hurt, and, really, be pointless. As pointless as coming to this gods-forsaken rock of a planet was. As pointless as trying to save anything and anyone. As pointless as being chained to a wall next to the whore of Babylon.
Saffron snapped something at her in Chinese.
Raising an eyebrow, Inara replied coolly, "Not anatomically correct, but thank you for the suggestion. I might add it to my repertoire."
"You would."
Inara smiled sweetly, "Oh, come now, Saffy, you're just jealous that your training wasn't as good."
"We can't all go to the Guild."
"Not all of us are qualified," Inara agreed.
Saffron glared, but clamped her lips closed on whatever she was about to say.
A moment later, the man who'd shanghaied them sauntered in, smiling. "Ah, I hope you two are havin' a good time."
"What are you planning to do with us?" Inara asked calmly, trying to gauge how close he was going to get.
"Well, now, that would be telling." Captain Jack Gough moved closer, eyeing them both with calculation. "You'll fetch a pretty price as brides, I'm thinkin'."
"I've got a better idea. You could unchain us and we could give you a demonstration of our talents."
He chuckled at Saffron, "I don't think so, darlin'. I've heard about you. But," he moved closer to her and ducked his head, "I don't mind testing the goods out."
Inara rolled her eyes as he kissed the redhead. First being chained to a wall, now having to endure the impotent advances of an imbecile. She started counting backwards from one thousand. In Chinese.
When the Captain bumped into her, she opened her mouth to snap at him for interrupting the count. Then stopped. His eyes were glazing and a moment later, he sagged to the floor at her feet.
"There's a key in his pocket." Saffron directed.
"I remember." Eyeing the distance, Inara was suddenly glad she'd worn flats this morning. They went so well with the watered silk gown she was wearing, too. She carefully toed one of them off, then flexed her toes and used her foot to hook the keys out of the unconscious man's pocket. "How long before he wakes?"
"At least three hours."
"Good." Inara kicked, and the keys flew up in an arc, she caught them neatly in her right hand, then began working at the lock on her manacle. It was a good thing it wasn't exceedingly tight, or she would have had to undo Saffron first. And the bitch would probably have left her chained to a wall.
"You're good."
"Training, remember?" Inara pulled one hand free, then unlocked the other cuff. She stepped back into her shoe before reaching down to pull the Captain's gun from its holster. A slightly utilitarian weapon, but it would do. She tucked it into her waistband before sighing and moving to release Saffron.
"I didn't think you'd let me loose."
Inara tucked the keys into her pocket and wrapped her hand around the butt of the gun, "I'm regretting it already."
Smirking, Saffron leaned closer, "You're beginning to like me."
"No," Inara pointed the gun at her, "I'm not. Now get out of my way so I can get off this planet."
"So you can go back to Captain Reynolds?" Saffron made the question mocking, as if that was the worst plan she'd ever considered.
Seriously, she should have left her chained up. "My business is not yours."
"And yet they both pay well."
It was a point, but Inara doubted the Companion Guild would see it quite that way. "I'll have no use for this man and his ship--once I've been returned to my own."
Avarice flashed in Saffron's eyes, and she nodded, "It's a deal."
"Don't try to cross me."
Spreading her hands, Saffron raised her eyebrows, "As if I'd dare."
She really should just shoot her. Inara turned away and headed for the cockpit, "I'm sure you would. But you don't like being shot."
"Very few people do."
The controls were similar enough to give Inara little trouble, and they were shortly on the way to where she'd left her shuttle. Saffron seemed to have taken a hint and kept her mouth shut until just before they reached their destination. "You sure you don't want to become a team? We could rule the galaxy."
"Until the first chance you got to shove me out an airlock for the profit."
"Please, I'd wait longer than that."
Inara smiled slightly and set the ship down, then stood, "I'm sure you would. Now get out of my way, or do I have to shoot you?"
"Have fun chasing Malcolm Reynolds."
"Have fun getting shot by the scum of the Alliance."
"If it pays..."
Shaking her head, Inara stepped down the ramp and eyed her shuttle.
Behind her, the engines of the ship started, the wind kicking up, spattering her skirts with dust and debris. She frowned, eyeing the now filthy silk.
Definitely should have shot her.
-f-
oooo! Shiny!
(For the record, I took the prompts as "starting places", and would have been delighted with the last one where it stood.)
#1 - oh, *funny*. Good Zoe voice. "I," Zoe said dryly, "Don't think anyone's gonna be kissin' you anytime soon."
And Saffron hits just the right notes, so that you wonder if she really isn't okay and shouldn't be untied and trusted...and then you wake up and say NO! *g*
#2 - oooo - sneaky stealing stuff Vasquez. Absolutely badass! And Drake, at the end. *sniff*
#3 - Even though this one didn't exactly follow the prompt, this was my favorite. You did a great job with Inara, who is a character I don't always like, and again a great job with Saffron.
"We can't all go to the Guild."
"Not all of us are qualified,"
*dies, laughing*
I would like to see, if you ever get it written, the rest of the caper for #1. But no rush. Thanks again for writting these!
- hg
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Re: oooo! Shiny!
#1 - Plot has never been my strong suit, and thus the notreallyexplaining everything. I should probably sit down and try plotting it out sometime when I'm not falling asleep.
#2 - definitely not the world's most successful cat burglar. And Drake, well, the movie has that great sense between the two that they do save each others' asses.
#3 - I loved writing this, because, well, Inara IS a snarky bitch at times and she doesn't get to be enough. And, and, I was totally floored when I finished it and went to look at the prompts again. Zoe doesn't even have as many letters as Inara! *headdesk*
Thank you =)
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I go back and forth on Saffron. I kind of like her and I kind of hate her. And, well, she's always kind of obnoxious. Hrm. *g*
Heh. That's what comes of writing it at 2 am. *headdesk* Thanks!