DPP: The make it fit fic-meme weekend of fun!!!!

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

Morning ladies and fanfolks :D (Well, it's almost afternoon here) I am posting early for two reasons - 1) I am going out. and 2) MOAR TIME FOR FICTIONS!!! which is always a good thing.

This is my final DPP this week and it is, indeed, yes, it is, a FIC MEME. An IN CANON fic meme inspired by some of the comments from the week's DPP discussions, and some interesting ideas from yesterday's missing scenes wishes.

The rules are simple and few:

1) Post prompts!!

2) FILL prompts!!

3) All fills MUST be wholly supported by canon - you CANNOT CHANGE THE OUTCOME OF THE SHOW IN ANY WAY. If you do you will be PUNISHED! (I'm not quite sure how, but there will be frosty looks and strongly worded letters involved I can tell you that much for sure)

4) Have fun!!!!

5) BE AWESOME!!!

And it's as simple as that. Obviously it would be nice if you could fill a prompt for every one you post, but I'm not going to impose it as a rule or anything because I feel like it discourages people from prompting, and we like prompts, so prompt freely and with abandon! Reckless Abandon (which is the title of an erotica novel my mother owned when I was young which I read when I was far too young and didn't understand AT ALL) if you so choose.

HAPPY WEEKEND EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!! (tiny exclamation marks for giant text makes me unusually happy) I am officially passing the DPP wheel over to the next lunatic.

It's been real, y'all

<3

Comments

First prompt!!!!

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

Wow, I am really overusing exclamation marks today, BUT I JUST DON'T GIVE A DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My prompt:

Resurrection ship, military corner folds, she's got a bottle of tequila, a bottle of gin, and if I bring a little music I can fit right in

Because I'm feeling abstract today.

Now you go.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Re: First prompt!!!!

[lizziec]

Somewhat tortured. Certainly not my best work. I know I probably didn't have to but I think I got nearly every word of the prompt in. And I included a bonus because I've had that song going round in my head all evening :P *and* I managed to put it in to one of the scenarios we said we wanted to see in yesterday's DPP :P

Enjoy ;)

---

That's just it, Kara. I didn't want to make it back alive.

Kara sat quietly on the edge of Lee's bunk for what seemed an age after the admission, at a complete loss for words. Everything she could think of to say was trite and clichéd. In the end she gave up on words and went straight for her locker instead.

The collection of bottles inside weren't what they claimed to be. There was no Picon Whisky in those bottles any more, none of that Gemenese Gin that had once been so popular among a certain subset of Galactica's officers, though as an exception to the rule she was fairly sure that somewhere at the back was the dregs of some Tequila from Scorpia, the final material link with that holiday she'd taken trekking through the jungles not long before the fall.

Those bottles labelled with long since disappeared brands from dead worlds now held various amounts of varying vintages of the Chief's best moonshine and Kara felt that tonight what Lee needed more than whatever unoriginal platitudes she could come up with was to get staggeringly drunk.

Thankful that every bunk had their curtains open revealing neat, uniform military corners, proving that they really were alone she barred the door, poured out two glasses of one of the better vintages of the rotgut that passed for good alcohol these days and prepared for a long night. At least they had this. When words couldn't fix what was broken, there was at least companionable drinking. It was like their own kind of music.

Re: First prompt!!!!

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

Yay! You filled! :) And it's really lovely, not tortured at all. Hee! Sorry about the song, but it's been in my head all day too, and it is a really good song, it's not like I rick-rolled you or anything.

I love that your solution to how Kara reacted is that she didn't say anything, it seems like it could easily have gone down this way from the way they talk about it afterwards, and companionable drinking is always good times.

Lovely fill, thank you :D

I have to go write something now. I seem to have neglected the fact that it's 4th July weekend, so I doubt my little fic meme is gonna get much play, the least I can do is try to fill the prompts that ARE here!

Re: First prompt!!!!

[amaliak.livejournal.com]

Wow! I like this a lot. Because that's totally something that Kara would have done.

Thanks for writing!
cheers.
--Lex

Re: First prompt!!!!

[callmeonetrack.livejournal.com]

I definitely believe Kara would truthfully have no idea what to say/how to react to that. I'm sure she'd think getting drunk was the perfect solution! (if only it lead to lusty business! ;)

Re: First prompt!!!!

[scifishipper.livejournal.com]

Nice! This is a total Kara solution to the problem. Would've worked, too. (And good call making sure there are no spying eyes. Grr.)

Re: First prompt!!!!

[anamarya.livejournal.com]

I'm like a week late but....

this is totally believable and not tortured at all. I really think that she would have done something like this.

[winegums.livejournal.com]

Oh frak, the next lunatic on the DPP wheel is me and you are one tall order to follow (ACK!!!)

Oh well, here is my prompt: prank.

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

hehe, I'm sure your lunacy will be more than adequate :D

...I'm working on the prompt.

Filled :) 1/2

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

I don't know that this qualifies as a prank, but it is just what came out.


when the well runs dry

He's had too much to drink, of that he's absolutely certain. Kara's poorly stifled giggles are tickling the inside of his ear, her breath warm on the side of his face. She smells like too much ambrosia covered up with the bitter stench of whatever it is that passes for coffee these days. She's farther gone than he is.

The thing about Kara is that she can hold her drink. She can drink and drink and stay standing and not throw up, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't get wasted. Around about her fourth drink she starts to flush, her pale skin assuming blotchy patches of red, and her smiles get more sincere and more liberally applied.

Around her sixth drink her tongue starts to loosen, her jokes get just a little less humourous, her wit stinging with just a little more force, and he starts to keep track of exactly who is in the room, how much he needs to keep her from saying.

Around her eighth drink she starts to have lapses in judgement, starts thinking that doing things like this is a good idea. It's the eight plus drinks nights that come with the wildest stories, the trips to the brig, the bruises that she can't explain, doesn't notice until the morning.

Tonight she's had at least twelve, he stopped counting hers around his seventh, he figures that he can't help her now anyway if she gets herself into trouble, and numbers are confusing. Whatever.

They've had a lot to drink, and she's giggling like a child, right up in his face, the whole length of her body pressed into his side, and he's standing in the middle of the XO's quarters concentrating very hard on not spilling as he transfers the whiskey from Tigh's last bottle into Kara's flask.

When he's done he passes her the flask, and maybe he watches her lips as they wrap around the neck, she takes a swig and a drop runs down her chin. He lifts his thumb to her face without even thinking about it, swipes at the liquid. Their eyes lock for a moment, frozen in time, and then she blinks and he looks away. They are a series of moments locked from the inside, he is far more drunk than he ought to be.

If you're wondering what number of drinks he needs to have to make him start losing his judgement, the answer is five, and a Kara Thrace chaser.

Filled :) 2/2

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

She grins and waggles her eyebrows at him as she lifts the water bottle. She goes to pour it herself, knocking it clumsily into the now empty whiskey bottle, and he pries it from her gently before they end up flooding Saul's office.

He hands her the whiskey bottle to hold, and it sways in her hands, she's laughing too much, she's farther gone than he is. He lays one hand over hers where she's clutching the bottle, steadying it between them and raising the water bottle to the neck of the other. He tips, she wavers, and the water spills down her leg.

"Frak." He mutters. Kara giggles and swipes at her leg.

"Klutz" she calls him, and he pushes at her half-heartedly.

She loses her balance and stops herself from falling backwards off the desk by grabbing onto his hand, pulling herself back towards him. She over-compensates and they wind up too close, their noses close enough to brush if he moved a fraction to the right. Her eyes are boring into his, and he suddenly can't remember a single thing that he was doing.

She licks her lips, his eyes follow her tongue where it slips along her skin.

If you're wondering how many drinks he has to have before he starts thinking about what it would be like to kiss her in more detail than is healthy, the answer is three and a half. He's long past healthy.

Her gaze flickers to his lips, and then back to his, she's breathing heavy and a little quicker than usual.

He leans in, she smiles, their noses do brush.

"Colonol Tigh!" A voice from outside the door, Duck's greeting meant to warn them of his presence, "sir, I believe Commander Adama was looking for you sir, in CIC."

There is a muttered response from the XO and the sound of retreating footsteps. Lee breathes a sigh of relief, and looks back at Kara. She's flushed, and fiddling with her thumb ring, and she's moved back away from him.

She raises the empty bottle once more and he takes her meaning. They should really get this done and get out of there before Saul figures out what's going on.

They're in the rec-room when the ruccus starts, they can hear the exact moment that Tigh figures out that his medicine is nothing more than a placebo, and she grins at him from across the table.

He raises his glass in a cheers, they toast silently to the benevolent XO.

He doesn't know what number he is on.

[lizziec]

Shuttle.

Filled!

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

Fill :)


You think you know, what you are, what's to come

Every week, once a week, they take a Raptor shuttle down to the planet.

"Can you believe this place?" Kara asks from the cockpit as he does post-flight checks and shuts down the consoles, and when he looks up at her she's squinting out into the bright sunlight of New Caprica, taking stock of their surroundings.

"What do you mean?" He asks, unzipping his flight suit and peeling it down to his waist, it's hot down here, and those things do not breathe.

"I mean look at it!" She exclaims, gesticulating wildly out into the mire, he chuckles a little and comes to join her in the doorway. "Look at all these people, wandering about down here like they're actually going to make something out of this hell-hole. I mean, have you ever seen a place more bleak and uninviting than this?"

She hops down onto the dusty ground, scuffing her feet in the dirt like the planet deserved a good kicking. He jumps down after her and nudges her with his shoulder.

"I don't know," he says, giving a cursory glance around the terrain and then turning back to her with a grin. "The inside of Hotdog's rack is pretty uninviting."

She laughs, her eyes sparkling in the bright sunshine. He's missed this, this ease with her, missed feeling like they understand each other. He's felt off-kilter ever since the day Admiral Cain met her demise, the day he almost met his, and she has been aloof ever since she returned from Caprica the second time, a brand new toy in tow.

They've been distant, estranged almost, but they're getting there, getting back. He's missed her.

"Nah," she laughs, scrunching up her nose, "I'd take a night in Hotdog's rack over a night in this dustbowl any day."

They were walking now, the sun beating down on them strong and unrelenting, the fine dust from the ground they were disturbing flying up into the air in front of them.

"I mean, seriously," she pauses to cough and brush her hair, growing longer by the day, out of her face, "what could possibly induce a person to want to actually move down here?" She coughs again, brushes his hand away when he brings it up to pat her back.

"It's not so bad," he starts when she recovers, and laughs at the glare she throws him as they start walking again, "Honestly, I understand the appeal. Sunlight on your face, ground beneath your feet, and a place to lay some roots, start your life over. If my circumstances were different, I would probably be thinking about the same thing."

"You and Dee not quite ready to shack up yet?" Her voice is quiet, and when he glances casually over at her she is concentrating on her feet. He resents the way she asks him like it hurts her to think about, like she's not frakking Samuel T. Anders in every available nook and cranny on board Galactica and at each and every single chance she gets.

He stays silent, and doesn't look at her when she finally raises her face. She nods a little bit and presses her lips together, and they move on, their silent pact not to talk about it beyond acknowledgement of facts still firmly in tact.

"Well," she sighs finally, when they're approaching the centre of the 'town' Baltar has under construction, a sprawling mass of tents and canopies and half-built structures, "you may be feeling the call of domestic bliss on a shiny new planet, Lee, but there aint no way in Hades you will ever see me trade in my tags for a camp-bed in a sand-box."

They reach their destination, coming to a stop in front of the school tent The President - Laura he corrects in his head - has set up. She ducks her head and slips underneath the thick fabric of the opening tent-flap, and he waits for a moment before following her in, taking a moment to smile at the thought that, no matter what happens with them, where they end up, at least she's not going anywhere any time soon.

Re: Filled!

[callmeonetrack.livejournal.com]

Oh gosh, PAINFUL, knowing what's to come. Sigh. Love the awkwardness around the Dee question.

Re: Filled!

[winegums.livejournal.com]

*sigh* this is so them, it feels like an outtake from pre-UB. It's lovely (and how many times am I going to use the word "perfect" for your drabbles without starting to sound like some lame-o who's read Twilight one too many times?) but reading it with the knowledge of what's to come, like taragel says, is PAINFUL. Poor Lee and Kara, she ended up doing a lot of things she said she never would (and we know what the next one did to him).

Re: Filled!

[winegums.livejournal.com]

Also, may I just note that I LOVE that you used a quote out of Buffy for this. (that was my first-ever fandom, and such an amazing show).

Re: Filled!

[scifishipper.livejournal.com]

I love this in-between scene. I see this so clearly in my head. Well done!

Prompty prompt prompts

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

Ok, I've filled two, so I get two more prompts :D

1) There's no place like home

2) Don't think that I can take another empty moment
Don't think that I can fake another hollow smile

No Place Like Home

[kl-shipper1.livejournal.com]

So this is what came out when I first looked at the prompt. Hope it's okay!

---

There’s no place like home.

The old phrase is the first thing that comes to mind when Kara sets the stolen raider down on the surface of Caprica and steps out to see the remains of the place she once called home. She snorts at the thought. “No one thought about the Cylons coming back and turning ‘home’ into a nuclear wasteland when they made that up, did they?”

She had been sent back home, back to Caprica, on what was practically a suicide mission to retrieve the Arrow of Apollo for President Roslin. Now, as she moves to enter the Delphi Museum, she looks up at the yellowed sky caused by the radiation from the Cylons’ nuclear strike on the colonies, and realizes that this nuked shell of a planet is not ‘home’ anymore. There were no signs of life, just destruction. Ruins of buildings hinting that this place had once been home, but not anymore. After the annihilation of the colonies, the Colonials were left with no home, forced to always be on the run, constantly fighting for their lives. No one had a home anymore, certainly not Caprica. She approaches the display case that holds the artifact she jumped back for, keeping the adage in her head so she doesn’t focus on the destruction that surrounds her.

As Kara spends more time on the Cylon-infested planet, the remembered saying becomes less and less fitting for the place she sees. Without a doubt, she knows she can’t consider this Caprica home, not after seeing the affects of the nuclear holocaust. The empty buildings and streets. The Cylons. The Resistance. The farms, with women hooked up to machines and being forced to carry human-cylon hybrids. Nothing about this place is home.

But when she makes her way back to the fleet and feels Lee’s arms, tight, around her on the Astral Queen, she sees that while Caprica might be an uninhabitable wasteland that was not home to anyone, Galactica and the Adamas have become her home and family. And although life on Galactica, always on the run from the Cylons and searching for a place to settle down, was extremely far from easy and perfect, when compared to a place like Caprica, there was no place like home.

[kl-shipper1.livejournal.com]

Here's some prompts, one word and some lyrics:

~ laugh

~ How come the only way to know how high you get me, is to see how far I fall?

[scifishipper.livejournal.com]

Going to leave a few prompts and if anyone comes back with others, I'll try to write something.

reporting for duty, sir

under the wing

returning the favor

restless

Reporting for duty, sir (1/2)

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

“Captain Thrace.”

She liked the way it sounded, her new rank. She had never expected to rise above Lieutenant, had never sought promotion. But having Admiral Cain see something in her that's worthy of merit, of something more than a disappointed look or a trip to the brig, well, she can't say it's unwelcome.

“Hey Lee.” She said, and spun on the spot, seeking him out where he stood, at attention, on the threshold of the Squadron Ready Room.

“Reporting for duty, sir.” His voice was cold, the formality of an officer addressing his superior the only familiar part of it. He was staring straight ahead, but when she stepped forward his eyes flicked momentarily to hers, hurt burning bright behind icy blue.

She took a moment to consider the last few hours, trying to figure out what she could have done to piss him off since their mission briefing, he'd been fine last time she saw him. He wasn't fine now, that muscle in his jaw was doing that twitching thing that it does whenever he's trying really hard not to be pissed off.

She'd never tell him, but she kind of liked that twitching thing, it made him being angry with her slightly less unbearable, and occasionally, depending on whether she cared about him being pissed at her, even a little bit enjoyable.

She racked her brain but couldn't think of anything that she had done in the last two hours that she would have considered worthy of his anger, so obviously it was one of those things she'd done without realising she'd done it. Great.

She sighed and dropped the file she'd been holding onto the briefing table.

“What?” She asked, leaning against the table. Lee still stood to attention, he still wasn't looking at her. The perfect little soldier.

“I beg your pardon sir?”

“Lee, stop being an asshole, what are you mad at me about?” His stoic gaze faltered then, his eyes snapping to hers at being called an asshole, he opened his mouth a little, then closed it again, eyes front and centre once more.

Kara sighed again. Was this how it was going to be now?

“I don't know what you mean by that sir.” Lee told her in a controlled voice. She checked his cheek muscle, it was dancing almost wildly. “You ordered me to report, so I am reporting.” He nodded curtly, and she scoffed.

“What the frak are you talking about Lee? Who ordered you to report to me?” His brow crinkled in confusion, and she shook her head slightly in bemusement.

“You did, sir.” He said quietly, meeting her eyes properly for the first time since he'd first spoken.

It was her turn to look confused.

“What? No I didn't!” She thought back over her afternoon, the people she'd spoken to, and something occurred to her. She laughed suddenly, and his lips tightened in a frown. “I told Hoshi that if he saw you to ask you to come find me, Lee. I didn't order you to report, gods!” She laughed again and thought about Hoshi, his strict interpretation of the military code and his insistence on calling her by her rank each and every time he spoke to her. She kind of liked the guy, but gods he was a stick-in-the-mud.

MOAR PROMPTS!!

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

- A shot in the dark

- Back to Black

- Cantankerous

- Poor circulation

- aftermath

GOGOGOGOGO!!!!

[howlinchickhowl.livejournal.com]

Also, I am in a Counting Crows mood this weekend, so:

- I belong in the service of the Queen
I belong anywhere but in between
She's been dying
I been drinking and I am the Rain King.

AND

- When I think of heaven (Deliver me in a black-winged bird)

Black-winged bird

[scifishipper.livejournal.com]

They've long since jumped away from the swirling storm that took Kara, her ship hurtling towards the hard deck until it burst in to flames. Lee finds himself spending more time in the observation deck, staring out at unfamiliar stars, thinking that the flash of a viper might just be hers.

He knows it's stupid to look for her. She's gone, but he can't help it. Space is where they were best together, flying side by side, easy banter between them when nothing else was.

There are so many things he misses about her, but unexpectedly it might be flying that he misses the most. Now, it's not the same and when he decided to give up his wings it was as much for her as for himself. He can't be out there without her anymore. Doesn't feel like it should.

When the claxons sound, his heart races and he imagines the pilots rushing to the decks. He doesn't know who's on shift, but he wonders which name will be listed after hers.

The CAP rushes by and he sees the raiders, thinks it strange that he'd get such a view. The bird comes fast, its black wings barely visible against the clusters of stars, more an absence than a presence as it blocks out the twinkling light.

There's something familiar about it's darting maneuvers, how the vipers can't get a read and their shots go wide. His heart starts to race wildly and he does his best to tamp it down.

It's not her. She's gone.

He breathes slowly, each exhale feeling like he's letting her go a little more. Another viper joins the two and they nip the raider's wing. With a blue flash, the ship disappears and he's left feeling oddly disjointed, like some tether has snapped and he swallows uncertainly.

That ship's coming back, he thinks as he rushes to the flight deck. The Chief shakes his head, he's not allowed to fly, and so he paces, listening to the comms, waiting for the ship to return.

A few minutes later he feels the pull of the tether again, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Instincts take over and he rushes to the comm and asks for his father.

"Why are you on decks? You are a civilian now." His father's voice is still harsh, their old bitterness in full force.

"Dad, listen to me. You have to let the raider dock. You have to trust me on this. Tell the CAP to escort it around the Fleet. If it complies, bring it in."

"No, Lee. That's not the way it works. Go back to your lawyer job. Actual out."

"Frak!" Lee curses, slamming the receiver onto the unit. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Helo, the new CAG, and he seizes upon him, begging the same request.

Helo nods as he listens, says he feels the same thing. So does Sharon and that's why he's on deck. He gives the orders and in a few minutes the raider is tethered to the deck.

Lee's throat is dry and he paces, pausing and watching and waiting for the first bit of cylon raider guts to spill onto the metal floor.

He doesn't wait long before a grating sound and a flood fluid flows out of the ship and splattering messily below the raider. Two boots peek out and then legs in the familiar gray-green of a flightsuit.

Lee rushes the raider, all eyes focused on his movements and the person climbing out of the ship. Helo is behind him when she emerges, face and body slick with raider insides.

With a shout of her name, Lee crushes her to him. "I though you were dead. Oh, gods, Kara..." his voice dissolves into tight sobs and she hugs him back.

"I'm okay...I'm okay." She leans back, her body still attached to Lee's. When she looks at him, her eyes are bright and alive.

"The storm, Kara. I saw your ship explode." His face is confused, but he feels the joy surging through him. Everything in his world has shifted back into place.

"I ejected, Lee. The cylons found me. It was that raider I thought I saw - I did see. And they took me to Earth. They know where it is and so do I."

Lee grins and pulls her against him again. Earth. No Earth. He doesn't care. He has the only thing in the universe that he wants.

He tilts her head back and kisses her.