Time to pay the piper.
Jan. 8th, 2010 01:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
centerspireIN CELEBRATION OF MY SECOND-FAVORITE TEAM (this week) WINNING THE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP (suck it, tu), IT'S TIME TO KEEP MY END OF THE GENTLEMAN'S AGREEMENT.
To recap:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starsfell and I made a gentleman's agreement regarding the outcome of the Independence Bowl. The Aggies were behind when time ran out, so I owe Jay a piece of fandom related work that includes her school. THIS IS THAT.
So, Jay, I hope you like fluffy-cracky-threesome-baby!fic. If not, I totes found something that will make you forget about that when I was in Japan (the one in Epcot, not the one in the Pacific). You'll get it eventually, with some sugar cookies, I think.
For your reading pleasure and to fulfill my obligation, I offer:
Title: In Space, No One Can Hear You Smirk (Except When They Totally Can)
Fandom: STXI
Pairing: Kirk/Chapel/McCoy
Rating: IDEK <--can that be my rating? No? Fine...PG-13, for people sharing a bed.
Word Count: 369 (heh...there was totally supposed to be another sentence, but I couldn't bring myself to it when I saw this word count.)
Disclaimer: Oh, please.
Christine giggled.
“Jim,” she tried to give him a stern look in the dim light of the room, “I am not naming my child Thor.”
“But, it’s such a great name, Chris.” She tried to pinch his shin with her toes, with only moderate success. “Fine,” Jim pouted, “if you’re so smart…”
She listened to the breathing behind her, heavy and regular. “David,” she whispered, trying not to wake Len. “David George, if it’s a boy.”
Jim had taken to teasing her, telling her she was very obviously showing, stroking the back of his index finger over the normal swell of her stomach whenever he could reach it. His finger stopped. Cold. “Whoa. I, uh, suppose that would do.” He cleared his throat. “And if it’s a girl?”
“Georgia.”
“Georgia? Georgia what? Georgia Peach? Georgia Pecan? Georgia Bulldog?”
Her smirk reflected in her tone, “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
Len rolled to his side behind her. “The both of you,” it could have been a curse. He was shaking his head, she was sure of it. “One, it’s bad luck to name a baby before the second trimester. Two, no self-respecting person who ever stepped foot in Oxford, much less graduated from Ole Miss, would allow a child in their family to be named Georgia Bulldog. Three, if you’ll recall, I just came out of fourteen hours of surgery. Without my best nurse, I might add, and I’m tired. So, put a sock in it, both of you.”
Jim leaned in slowly, until he was nose-to-nose with Christine. “He is such an old, Southern lady.” Len’s pillow arced over Chris and hit Jim on the side of the head. “Bones, come on! You are!”
“So help me, I will kick you out of here.”
“Hey, these are my quarters!”
“Fourteen hours of surgery! Saving one of your crewmen!”
Len settled over Christine’s ear, whispering, “but I like the way you’re thinking, darlin’.” He turned back over and, while Chris and Jim listened - Jim’s finger moving slowly over the small swell of Chris’ stomach - his breathing evened out, heavy and regular.
“Can we go back to girls for a second? Because I really like Peppermint Patty.”
Christine giggled.
To recap:
starsfell and I made a gentleman's agreement regarding the outcome of the Independence Bowl. The Aggies were behind when time ran out, so I owe Jay a piece of fandom related work that includes her school. THIS IS THAT. So, Jay, I hope you like fluffy-cracky-threesome-baby!fic. If not, I totes found something that will make you forget about that when I was in Japan (the one in Epcot, not the one in the Pacific). You'll get it eventually, with some sugar cookies, I think.
For your reading pleasure and to fulfill my obligation, I offer:
Title: In Space, No One Can Hear You Smirk (Except When They Totally Can)
Fandom: STXI
Pairing: Kirk/Chapel/McCoy
Rating: IDEK <--can that be my rating? No? Fine...PG-13, for people sharing a bed.
Word Count: 369 (heh...there was totally supposed to be another sentence, but I couldn't bring myself to it when I saw this word count.)
Disclaimer: Oh, please.
Christine giggled.
“Jim,” she tried to give him a stern look in the dim light of the room, “I am not naming my child Thor.”
“But, it’s such a great name, Chris.” She tried to pinch his shin with her toes, with only moderate success. “Fine,” Jim pouted, “if you’re so smart…”
She listened to the breathing behind her, heavy and regular. “David,” she whispered, trying not to wake Len. “David George, if it’s a boy.”
Jim had taken to teasing her, telling her she was very obviously showing, stroking the back of his index finger over the normal swell of her stomach whenever he could reach it. His finger stopped. Cold. “Whoa. I, uh, suppose that would do.” He cleared his throat. “And if it’s a girl?”
“Georgia.”
“Georgia? Georgia what? Georgia Peach? Georgia Pecan? Georgia Bulldog?”
Her smirk reflected in her tone, “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
Len rolled to his side behind her. “The both of you,” it could have been a curse. He was shaking his head, she was sure of it. “One, it’s bad luck to name a baby before the second trimester. Two, no self-respecting person who ever stepped foot in Oxford, much less graduated from Ole Miss, would allow a child in their family to be named Georgia Bulldog. Three, if you’ll recall, I just came out of fourteen hours of surgery. Without my best nurse, I might add, and I’m tired. So, put a sock in it, both of you.”
Jim leaned in slowly, until he was nose-to-nose with Christine. “He is such an old, Southern lady.” Len’s pillow arced over Chris and hit Jim on the side of the head. “Bones, come on! You are!”
“So help me, I will kick you out of here.”
“Hey, these are my quarters!”
“Fourteen hours of surgery! Saving one of your crewmen!”
Len settled over Christine’s ear, whispering, “but I like the way you’re thinking, darlin’.” He turned back over and, while Chris and Jim listened - Jim’s finger moving slowly over the small swell of Chris’ stomach - his breathing evened out, heavy and regular.
“Can we go back to girls for a second? Because I really like Peppermint Patty.”
Christine giggled.
