catko: (clubs)
For holiday prompts...

Title: Boston in July
Fandom: Leverage
Characters/Pairing(s): Nate, Sophie
Rating: G
Word Count: 463
Words/Prompts Used: Ribbon, Ornaments, Icicles, Mistletoe, Elf, Tinsel, Jingle, Gingerbread, Wrapping Paper, Presents

"Whoof, bloody hell, it's HOT," huffed Sophie as she strolled into the pub, the blazing afternoon sun streaming in behind her as the door wheezed shut. She walked over to the bar, where Nate was staring into a tall glass filled with ice and something bubbly. ​He turned to watch as she scrabbled​ in her large handbag, finally pulling out a long ribbon threaded through with tinsel, which she used to tie her hair up.

He tipped his glass in welcome. "It's summer in Boston, get used to it." He took a swig as she mock-glared at him. Tone switching to serious, he asked, "Did you get it?" She reached back into her bag and pulled out a package in brown wrapping paper which she placed on the bar. "Yes, and it meant three more sweaty ​blocks to walk​. I should have taken a cab." She patted the package then sashayed around to behind the bar. "So ​much secrecy, darling: no sign on the door, and not a word from your man there." She filled a glass with ice and club soda. "What is it, presents for the team?" She gave him a bright, hopeful glance. "Early Christmas elf, are you?"

"It's JULY," he said, and slid the package off the bar and into the bag near his feet. As she continued to look inquiringly, he added, shortly, "It's for a job." "Oh, more mystery," she said lightly, and rounded back around to sit next to him. She put the damp glass against her forehead and sighed. "God, this dreaded humidity," she groaned, "Never would I think I'd wish for winter, but what I wouldn't give now for some snow and jingle bells and ho-ho-ho."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You? Ms. Cynical, longing for the Christmas season​?" "Oh I know, I'm not usually one for holiday cheer. Except the gift-giving. Ah yes, nothing wrong with that." She instinctively reached up to touch her ruby earring, and her eyes got a faraway look. The ice in her glass clinked, and, brought back to the present, she groaned, and reaching​ in her bag, pulled out a cut-glass bottle​ and proceeded to spray a fine mist around her face and hair.

Nate felt a bit of the mist tickle his nose. "Smells like gingerbread," he murmured, resisting the impulse to sway in towards her.

"Gingerbread? Darling, it's Guerlain. ​Now y​ou're the one that's got the longing​ for Christmas​." She spun on her stool to face him directly. "And in that case, it's too damn bad we don't have some mistletoe handy." She glanced up at the ceiling and back at him, impishly. ​The shiny ribbon in her hair ​shimmered, and the ruby earrings sparkled like ornaments.​​ "What would you do then?" she purred, parting her lips​.

Her look would melt an icicle, which Nate -- in Boston in July -- decidedly was not.  He leaned closer.
catko: (Buffy Finale)
For the comm prompts oldie but goodie, road trip, and pick a song and the theme of Female Characters.

Title: Riding Away from Saving the World
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Words: 161
Summary: Post Series Finale, the Buffy crew heads out on the open road in an old school bus.
Notes: I had an idea for a road-trip fanmix that included the Tom Waits' song "The Long Way Home," and only later saw that it was the name of the post-finale Buffy comic book. Warning that most of these songs are unlikely to be found on a desert cafe jukebox, and certainly not in the year of the Buffy finale.

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catko: (joe_s)
Fandom: The Magicians
Words: 278
Notes: Spoilers for Season Finale

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catko: (joe_s)
Title: More Than A Little Hope
Prompts Used: Words--beginnings, daring, decisions, garden, growth, rebirth
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Word Count: 617

Lestrade looked brightly around the lovely room and nodded appreciatively. "Can't thank you enough for the invite. Well enough, now that case is over, I feel like I got a new lease on life."
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catko: (scorpion happy)
Fandom: Scorpion
Characters: Toby and Happy
Pairings: See above.
Word Count: 346

"What?" It was a familiar reaction from throughout their time together, with Happy catching Toby gazing at her, moony-eyed, but this time it came without the defensive edge of their early days. She looked at him thoughtfully as she set down the wrench on the workbench where she was sitting.
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catko: (Santana)
The challenge at [ profile] gameofcards is to write an AU of an existing fandom. Once I did a visual recast of Firefly using Glee characters. So, I thought I'd write a little something about that....

Title: Glee--In Space!
AU Type: Space AU
Word Count: 250+

Kurt had just finished his protein bar when he felt the ship lurch and shudder. He shot an alarmed look at Tina and they both rose from the dining table. "Compression coil?" the pilot asked, dusting off the crumbs and heading out the door. "I'll check the engine, hopefully it's just the auto-pilot going wonky," Kurt said hastily as he followed his crewmate into the passageway. "Never did trust those things," the pilot said briskly, swinging herself up the grating just as the Captain came clambering up from the cargo hold, followed by Jayne and Zoe. The five stared briefly at each other then each went to their various posts: the Captain following his pilot and first mate up to the comm, the merc to her bunk to grab some weaponry in case trouble was afoot, and the engineer to his engine.

Later, satisfied that it had only been a glitch in the auto-pilot programming, they reconvened in the cargo hold, drawn by the loud refrain of "Single Ladies." There, they found the rest of the crew practicing dance steps and dissolving into laughter. Kurt, who'd stopped to wipe off the engine grease and apply moisturizer, was the last one down to the hold, and he paused momentarily on the catwalk, watching Brittany whip her hair around while showing the moves to a surprisingly-for-a-preacher adept Mike Chang, while pilot and first mate swayed in each others' arms, Artie circled the action in his motor chair,  and the others tried to join in, prancing and posing.

Kurt felt a glow of happiness as he thought how lucky he'd been to be brought on as a mechanic-countertenor with this wacky but talented crew. That glow turned to annoyance as he saw Puck and Santana showing Finn the step-ball-change before the jazz square. Ugh, how many times did he have to tell them! Shaking his head, he bounded down the stairs to show his crewmates how to do the damn dance.

catko: (joe_s)
Doing drabbles off of phrases in other people's drabbles, so fun.

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catko: (Castle Martha)
Challenge for [ profile] gameofcards to write a fic using two randomly chosen prompts from a list of events and themes. Mine were ​One or more characters wake up with superpowers (event), and Jealousy (theme). I always think of Castle when it comes to this kind of thing.

Event and Theme Used: ​One or more characters wake up with superpowers (event), and Jealousy (theme)
Fandom: Castle
Word Count: 1751

Prologue: "C'mon, guys, it'll be fun!" Castle wheedled as he shepherded the somewhat reluctant group across the street from the pub to the park, where a decidedly rag-tag looking carnival was set up. "It's not even 8 pm! Let's keep the party going! Nothing is too much for my beloved's birthday," he added, as he put his arm around Beckett's waist.
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catko: (buffy Tpet Fridge)
...wherein your favorite characters learn their lesson.​ For [ profile] lands_of_magic.

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Words: 252

​Oooh, fortune cookies!” Willow said gleefully as she rooted around in the take out bag.​ ​“Fortunes?” Cordelia gave a withering look as she gazed at a garlic string bean before popping it in her mouth. “What kind of fortune could possibly help us?”
"Never know!" Willow cracked the cookie and pulled out the slip of paper. "Oh, this is a weird one. '​Take this moment to make a wish, and think about what you've learned.' " She looked around the table. "So, everyone, make a wish!"
​At that moment, she and everyone else seemed to drift into ​a reverie.
Willow remembered an angry rant, a tight corset, and a strangely appealing feeling of power. But she also recalled the fear on the face of her friends, and classmates crumpled on the floor of the Bronze.
Xander grinned as he recalled Buffy sashaying seductively in front of him, then grimaced as he pictured a band of high school women with axes.
Cordelia thought of an amulet and incantation, then two sets of fangs sinking into her throat.​
​Buffy flashed on the warmth of a lover's embrace and the agony of his spite and scorn.
Willow was the first to shake herself out of her thoughts. "Um," she said, clearing her throat. "Okay, well, no wishes, so moving on," with a squint at the slip of paper, " 'Think of what you've learned.' What have we learned?"
As one, they raised their teacups and chopsticks and intoned, "Be careful what you wish for!"​
catko: (ff kaylee smile)
Challenge at [ profile] gameofcards to write a fic using wintry prompts.

Prompt Used: blinding, blizzard, cold, fireplace, ice hockey, quilt, slippery
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 571

“Brrrrrr!” Kaylee shivered as she looked out the cargo door into the blinding snowstorm and waved the mule up the ramp. “Not used to this kinda cold, huh,” she said to Zoe who punched the switch to close the door. Zoe grinned as she strode over to the dripping vehicle. “Nope, the cold of space is more like … a dry cold.” Grimacing, she nonetheless grabbed the slippery arm of her husband and pulled him out of the driver’s seat into a kiss.

“We gotta get us a new truck if we’re gonna make a habit of doin’ business in a blizzard,” grumbled Jayne as he clambered out of the mule and shook himself all over like a big dog.

“Quit the bitching! A job’s a job!” Mal leapt out of the shotgun seat and started pointing his finger around. “Sooner we unload this stuff, the sooner we’ll be sitting in the warm and getting the heck off this planet and on our way.”

“Hmmm, might be no rush for that.” Wash hunched over the cargo bay console and squinted at the screen. “Think we’re gonna have to wait for this system to pass to have a clear take-off. Stabilizer’s been a little dicey,” — Kaylee groaned loudly— “so I think we better stay put overnight.” He punched a few keys, squinted again, and nodded. Mal set his jaw. “Well, that’s that, but it still don’t change the plan to get this stuff settled, and ourselves, too.”

“As to that…” Inara’s dulcet tones came down from the catwalk, and as all eyes raised to her, she smiled warmly. “I’d like to invite you all to my shuttle for a warm-up tea.” As Jayne snorted, she added, “And by warm-up, I mean something special to add to the tea.” With a lovely gesture, she departed. Jayne grinned wolfishly and started hauling boxes off the mule, double-time.
“Well, this is real nice,” declared Kaylee as she settled back on Inara’s pillows, smoothing a silken quilt over her lap. “I’d be wiling to sit out a blizzard any day like this.”

“Great idea to have a fire.” Wash gestured with his mug towards Inara’s com screen, where she’d pulled up a vid of a fireplace crackling merrily. “Grog is good,” acknowledged Jayne with a growl as he rotated spread-legged on the comm chair. “But I wasn’t raised to any kind of cold weather, and I don’t take to it much.” Still, he pulled rather fondly on the ends of the orange and yellow knitted hat on his head.

“None of you have a lick of fortitude,” proclaimed Mal from the doorway where he'd been lingering. “Growing up, we had winters like this from time to time. Toughens a body.” He patted his own chest with one hand and took a swig off his mug with the other. “ ’N fact, when the lake’d freeze over, I got pretty darn good at ice hockey.” He licked his lips and his eyes went distant.

“Ice hockey? What’s that, Cap?” Kaylee leaned forward, her eyes glowing. Mal almost never talked about his past, but she could see he had some feeling running for it just then.

Mal focused on her, ambled into the room, and plopped down on the bed. “Well, Kaylee, it goes like this….”

As his voice ran on, the others leaned in, drank, closed their eyes, or otherwise followed their natures and felt the warmth of gathering together.
catko: (luna)
The challenge at [ profile] lands_of_magic is to write a fic showing how your characters dealt with a difficult turn of events. You can't change the event, just address it. I thought of ... well, you'll see.

Fandom: Harry Potter
Words: 371

   Mrs Granger: "Hermione. Tea's ready, darling."
    Hermione: "Coming, Mum!"

With an effort, Hermione plasters a happy expression onto her face—not the most common for her as it was, and even more arduous now. She takes a deep breath and walks slowly down the stairs.

Fortunately in a way, her parents are facing away from her, gathered around the tea-table but looking out the window, remarking, as they tended to do, on the scenery outside.

“Just the wallcreepers and nuthatches today, love,” her mother says fondly. “Aye, finches more in the morning, yes,” says her father, putting his arm around his wife.

Hermione steels herself to do this quickly. Once they turn and see her, she might not be able to pull it off. She raises her wand and mutters the phrase. As she stares for one last time around her, the familiar sitting-room already seems to blur around the edges. She wipes her eyes brusquely, but still the blurring shimmers and glows—and with a determined set in her jaw, she turns to leave the house of her childhood, forever.


The tea things rattle and the husband and wife look at each other in vague alarm. “What’s this?” asks the man, “truck going by?” “Dunno, I thought it was me, a bit of a dizzy spell.” The woman touches the items on the tea-tray, rearranging them slightly. The man shakes his head as though to clear the cobwebs, then smiles at his wife. “P’rhaps it’s just the excitement of our new adventure, love! Giving us a bit of the willies!”

The woman looks around the sitting room, with the photos of the two of them on holiday, linens, clocks, and other homey items. “Will be hard to leave home, but fantastic to be set in Australia!” she says brightly. “Now for tea!” She looks down at the tea-tray and grimaces. “What now?” asks the man.

She gestures at the tray, with the three tea cups, three saucers, and three sandwich plates. “Dunno what I was thinking, I suppose I am at sixes and sevens,” she says brightly, though as she gathers up the extra set to return to the kitchen, she feels a wave of loss and sadness that she cannot explain.

catko: (buffy Tpet Fridge)
The challenge was to write a thank you note for a gift that wasn't really good. I put a bit of a twist, hope that's okay.

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Words: 241

Mom and Dad:
I’m writing this on Christmas Eve. Just sayin’, since who knows when you’ll even stagger out of bed to find this. Might be Christmas Day, or Boxing Day. God, maybe you’ll even stay passed out until the end of the month.

Whatever, I won’t be around, so why should I care. Yeah, finally I’m breaking the bonds of family, for what it’s been worth, and heading out. So, consider this a good-bye, for now. Dunno where I’ll be, I  mean I’m not leaving town or anything, but I know you won’t come looking, either. Still, I guess this is just to let you know that I’m leaving on my own, I wasn’t kidnapped, or disappeared like I know you know other kids in Sunnydale have been. Oh, the tales I could tell, but yeah not right now.

One more thing. I guess I do want to say. in case I don’t get a chance to: Thank You. Even though I don’t have a lot of good memories of our family life, you did give me life, and as of late, that’s been pretty damn fantastic. Oh, sure, there has been some downsides, but I got friends, I got a purpose, and I even got that stack of comic books you gave me many Christmases ago. The last good gift I can remember, so, okay.

Anyhoo. I’m outta here. See you next year—maybe.

Your son, Xander
catko: (buffy Tpet Fridge)
Five Best Holiday Gifts Ever Received
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Note: Quotes on Buffy's gifts are from Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, Mother Jones, and Shinedown

Buffy tore open the wrapping paper. "Aw! A bundle of stakes! Just what I need! Because after all," twirling one expertly, "what every girl wants is a practical gift." She pulled a mock-downcast face, but her eyes were twinkling. "Well, it's not just practical, it's also personal," chirped Willow. "Check 'em out, hand carved!" Buffy squinted at one after the other, and her lips parted. "'Well-behaved women seldom make history,'" she read. " 'I'm not a humanitarian, I'm a hell-raiser.' 'Don't be delicate. Be vast and brilliant.' Aw, guys. Thanks. I love them! Best gift ever!" She hugged the stakes to her chest as she beamed around the room. (105)
"Oooh, best ever? That's saying a lot," Dawn piped in, perhaps thinking of the bedroom upstairs stuffed with plushies, pajamas and robes, boots, handbags, jewelry, and no end of other trinkets. "How about all of you? What's your best holiday gift ever?" She looked around the room, where the others were rattling packages, murmuring to each other, or eating cookies. "You first!" She shot a pointing finger at Oz, interrupting his tete-a-tete with Willow. "Oh, uh, yeah," he said, sitting up. He looked vacant for a moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. "The best holiday gift I ever got was offered on Christmas, but I didn't actually unwrap it til graduation." He turned a slow look to Willow. She, perhaps remembering a low-cut dress and Barry White songs, blushed and dove in for a kiss. The others groaned, laughed, and went on eating cookies. (148)
In the lull, Xander pondered the question. What with his family sitch, not like there were tons of happy memories. He thought over the hectic years of his childhood--the haphazard tree, half decorated, left akilter when his mom and dad went from singing Christmas carols and hanging tinsel to a full-on drunken brawl. A few of those, yeah, and any kid'd hide out in his sleeping bag in the back yard. But admit it, those memories were fading, replaced by ones like today: warmth, laughter, teasing, and actual presents. He shifted the big box of woodworking tools, reached for the plate on the coffee table, and grinned as he bit off the head of a gingerbread cookie. He made it this far, right? Everything they'd been through, they'd made it to now. And that was a pretty dame good gift. (131)
"My turn!" Dawn bounced in her chair. "I remember when I wanted the Malibu Barbie Beach House. Buffy had one, of course," --slight grimace-- "but I didn't want a hand-me-down like always. I wanted my own. So one Christmas Eve, I snuck to the top of the stairs, and saw Mom and Dad setting up my beach house. I was so excited I couldn't sleep all night! Hey!" she looked around suddenly. "Whatever happened to that thing, anyway?" Buffy, who'd been nodding along, looked instantly puzzled. "I...don't know. I remember you getting it, and I think I remember you playing with it, but..." her voice faded, as the two sisters gazed at each other, perturbed. This seemed to happen sometimes when they tried to link their memories of the past. "Oh well, maybe Mom knows!" said Dawn, cheering up. "We'll ask her when she gets back from her party." (150)
Giles walked in from the kitchen, cradling a mug of hot cider. "Ah, yes. I remember when my favorite holiday gift was the leather RAF jacket my mum bought me. I was 16 and sadly the gift was perhaps a year too late, as I was just turning my interests from the military to the macabre." He waggled his eyebrows as the others laughed. "In fact, that very jacket suffered extreme indignities at the hands of myself and my mates, turning it as we did into more of a dark arts vestment, complete with chains, studs, and blood red paint. Mum was dismayed, but at the time, that was nothing to me." He looked pensive, then shook himself slightly. "But, back to the here and now, I'd like to offer a toast of thanks for this gathering. Which rates right up there as one of my favorite holiday gifts ever." Raising his mug, he gestured around the room, til all had joined him with shouts and cheers. (169)
catko: (battle creek)
The challenge at [ profile] gameofcards was to write a short fic omitting one of the vowels. This might be cheating, but here you go. I also used two of the prompts from a different challenge: "The things you learn about people when you take care of their home while they’re away on vacation" and "She picks up the phone & says hello".

Title: Holly Housesits for Russ
Fandom: Battle Creek
Vowel Excluded: A
Word Count: 166

SUBJECT: Housesittin'

Hey. So everything's good round here, except I'm getting no phone reception so I'm using your Dell, which is wonky. Why didn't you mention -- how long's your ... "first vowel key" been broken? Knowing you, it's been forever & you figured out some work'round. I guess you could go with textspk but somehow I don't see you doing it. You're old school, honey, but it's ok. I'll keep you wired into the young cool stuff.

How's the conference? I know you're not big on sitting in meetings but it must be fun to be out of town. Hope you're in the nice section of Detroit & the hotel's good & you're not drinking too too much.

Hey by the by, someone phoned you. I didn't intend to pick it up, but it kept ringing, so....mmmmm. Your mom told me to tell you hello. There's more, but I'd better tell you in person. K hon. Miss you. Be good! See you soon!
catko: (Mystrade)
Title: Mycroft at Les Mis
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Word Count: 310 (not including song lyrics)
Notes: Sherlock: Just my parents.
John: Your parents?
Sherlock: In town for a few days.
John: YOUR parents?
Sherlock: Mycroft promised to take them to a matinee of Les Mis. Tried to talk me into doing it.

“Everybody raise a glass/Raise it up the master's arse/Everybody raise a glass to the Master of the House!”

Mycroft pressed his fingers against his forehead and stifled a moan. This was truly a new low. The audience were laughing and whooping, not adding at all to the non-existent decorum of the situation. He slid his glance to his right, where the lights from the stage were beaming on his parents’ upturned, rapt faces. At any rate they seemed to be enjoying the raucous cacophony, had been throughout. Already his mum had squeezed his arm multiple times, cooing “Oooh Mikey, isn’t it grand!” or some other such platitude. And his father had actually been singing along! Damn Sherlock. Surely he could have taken up Mycroft's very generous offer to perform this interminable duty. After all, what else had he to do? Lie on his couch all day? Mycroft was the one who had, shall we say, better things to do. Such as balance the world's economy, restore peace in distant lands; stir up unrest in others, if he were to be honest?

Ah well, surely this couldn’t go on for much longer. He stole a look at his watch. Oh, good heavens, still more than halfway left to go, plus intermission. Intermission! His face brightened. Shepherding his parents through the lobby throng would be arduous but a drink? Yes, yes, a substandard watered-down scotch would be just the thing.

As the song and singer crashed to the end, again his mother pulled on his arm with excitement. "Aren't they a laugh! Oh, I do like this!" Ah, well. A few hours to make them happy, surely he could withstand this, and worse, which was no doubt what was yet to come. Schooling his features into as pleasant a smile as he could muster, he patted her hand, settled back in his seat, and turned his mental attention to calculating the potential deleveraging of the shadow banking crisis in China.

catko: (Elementary Joan)
Title: Well, That Wasn't What I Expected To Happen
Fandom: Elementary
Prompts + links to prompts: Embedded links in blue
Word Count: 310

“These shoes are made for walking, not running,” proclaimed Sherlock, as he bent, rather solicitously actually, over Joan, who had pulled herself onto a doorstep of a building on the side-street off of Park. “Don’t you think you should be trying to catch him?” said Joan testily, gesturing down the street after a figure in a black leather jacket, who was turning onto Park and disappearing in the throng.

Sherlock waved his hands as he settled on the stoop next to her and bent to peer at her ankle, which she was rubbing gingerly. “It’s no matter. We clearly had no inkling we would run into Mallory, or we would have been better prepared.” He gestured again toward her footwear. “This indicates to me that it will not be difficult to, shall we say, run into him again. In that future case, I might recommend, literally. Sprained, not broken, yes?” He looked up at her.

“Hmm, yes, thank god,” Joan groaned slightly as she moved to lever herself to a standing position. “Well, we just can’t sit here all day. Better get a cab home.” She squinted up and down the side street and looked a bit dismayed.

Sherlock stood abruptly. “Never catch a cab here, best get down to The Avenue,” he said briskly, and in one sudden move, half-bent and scooped Joan into his arms.

“Aacck!” Joan cried. “What are you doing? Please put me down, it’s just a sprained ankle." Resolutely, Sherlock proceeded down the sidewalk. “Tcha-tcha, Watson, patience. We must preserve your ankle, not to mention your designer footwear, for the morrow, when we will again venture out and attempt to flag down our witness. Until then…a taxi.” Having reached the corner of Park Avenue, he managed to wave imperiously at a fortuitously oncoming cab, while keeping a comfortable yet respectable grip on his detecting partner.
catko: (ff zoeicon2)
Title: Every Seven Years
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 493
Note: Pastfic. This is related to a head-canon/series I have about Zoe Washburne, growing up. Other parts are here and here.

My dearest daughter Zoe: So it's your 14th birthday, and you know, it's the way of our people to celebrate the 7s something special. Don't know where that came from, some old story from Earth-That-Was, something about the seventh son, but never mind that about sons, because it's for girls, too, and you especially. When you were seven, you were so happy, to have the cake, and the giftings, and all the folks gathered round. I can still remember you blowing out your candles, and the light shining in your eyes, and I knew that was your beautiful spirit, shining through and lighting up everyone around you. Even if it was just our same old crew and kin, and our same old table and ship and protein mush. You didn't seem to have a care in the 'Verse, and I remember my wish for you I knew would be in vain, but I wished it anyway: that you would always be so happy, with the light shining in your eyes.

I know the last few months have been tough on you. Hell, they've been tough on all of us. Sure 'n' all, with the dratted Alliance squeezing us honest folk further and further out to the Black, and the ship getting to feeling smaller with alll the crew and taking on passengers and all. Maybe it's becoming an unfit life for a girl entering her womanhood. Your dad and I, we've talked about setting you down at a school somewhere, but we can't bear to let you go just yet. Maybe in a year or so. We can talk about that, okay?

I don't know what else to say to you to make this way of life easier for you now, except that you are a gift and a marvel and you are very very loved. Be angry if you need to be, rage for your freedom, but turn that energy toward your own power and your own future, and not against those around you who care for you and your happiness.

I want you to be able to sit down with the family and celebrate just like you did for your 7th. Do you remember that every time you have a birthday with a seven, the clan gathers and gifts you with a special talent, a skill, or a tool to help you get along in life? People want to give to you, and it's a sign of grace to be able to receive, even now when you wish you were anywhere but here.

And I want to tell you a secret.  No matter what the gifts that people give you, the biggest gift you get is something you already have within you. So you think about what that is, find it deep down inside, and let it out, and you’ll have it forever. Find your strength, find your power, and soon we will watch you soar free. With all my love,


catko: (Elementary Joan)

lyde, the tortoise who graces our screens sometimes in Elementary.
Lives with Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson in a brownstone in Brooklyn
Yet disappears for large stretches of time, leaving us to worry and wonder
Does he fend for himself, how does he survive?
Even a turtle needs love, attention, and food. Such as lettuce. Clyde loves lettuce.

True, when he does show up, his appearance is striking
He may bring a missive to Joan
Edging up her bedspread as she sleeps,

Toting a postit with a morning message
Or acting as an ambulance puttering among Sherlock's locks
Rolling over on his back, for as long as he likes
To mimic a paperweight
Or even painting, by his own volition
If Sherlock is to be believed, but to Joan's dismay
Still, we know Clyde would only do what Clyde wants
Even it's a puzzle to mere humans.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, for heaven's sake. I found Clyde in the shower. AFTER I'd turned on the water." A dripping wet Joan, wrapped in a towel, strode into the kitchen proferring a tortoise in front of her. "It's a hazard! To him as well as me!" Quite gently considering the circumstances, she placed the tortoise, seemingly placid except for front legs waving, on the table in front of Sherlock, who was peering into a microscope and apparently heeding no mind. "I don't know whether to be upset that he seems to have the run of the house, or concerned that he is being neglected. It's ridiculous!" Joan paced the kitchen behind the seated man, waving her free hand around whilt the other clutched the towel. "Sherlock! Are you listening?"

Sherlock turned his head to look at her. "Watson. I fail to grasp the controversy. Clyde is clearly thriving, and both appreciates the freedoms, as well as being impervious to the dangers, of life in the Brownstone. Not unlike you and I, am I correct?" He stared for a moment, blinked his eyes, and turned slowly back to the microscope--looking not unlike a tortoise himself, Joan couldn't help noticing, as she spun around and went back to finish her shower. (210 words)
catko: (Castle Martha)
The challenge is toimagine your favorite TV characters have been put under a spell and have turned into a supernatural creature or, if they're already a supernatural creature, they've turned human. Tell us what they have turned into and how they react or deal with the change. So here's mine:

Title: Wolf Moon Over Manhattan
Fandom: Castle
Words: 416

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