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if you read nothing else in this post, read the last paragraph!!!
The printer is making death rattle noises. There are four of us currently here, in an office of 20+. None of my favorites are in. At least five of the people who aren't here are out for the entire week. So much jealousy. So much. I know my vacation is coming but I want it to come FASTER! I really miss having a winter break this year. This is the first year I've ever not finished reading through the Yuletide archive before having to go back to school/work. I am only up to the beginning of the M's in the fandom list; I'm a little over halfway there. I want to read more and more and more, but I'm trying to avoid fan fiction while at work, especially since my wireless access is no longer cutting it and I can't do internets on my laptop.
Basically, this is a pointless post about how bored I am and how cranky I am that I have to be at work today when I could be at home reading fanfic, kink meme-ing, and RPing. Ridiculous complaints are ridiculous, but I am still so happy it is a four-day work week.
(If you want a good laugh, go through Rotten Tomatoes' section for Sherlock Holmes. Some of the less flattering reviews are uproarious. I sat by myself at the reception desk this morning, as no one called and no one came in, just laughing my ass off. Bad reviews are the best! Writers always come up with their best turns of phrase in them.)
So this is a Give Me Things to Write and I Shall Endeavor to Write Them post! You all know my fandoms and what I am willing to try (for the record, a few ideas off the top of my head: Sherlock Holmes (new movie or oldschool canon), Iron Man, Glee, Sons of Anarchy, The Mentalist, NCIS, Bones, How I Met Your Mother, iCarly, National Treasure, M*A*S*H, Hellboy, Firefly, True Blood... there are many many many things I'm willing to try that aren't on this list, so feel free to request others if you know I am familiar with the source material). I can't write anything dreadful or explicit due to being at work, but otherwise, I'm pretty easy. Give me a character or characters, a pairing, a situation you want to see somebody in, a word or a song lyric or a phrase... Crossovers, crack, angst, romance, gen, whatever else, and general ridiculousness are all a-okay. Just give me something to jot short things about. For the love of God, please. D: D:
Basically, this is a pointless post about how bored I am and how cranky I am that I have to be at work today when I could be at home reading fanfic, kink meme-ing, and RPing. Ridiculous complaints are ridiculous, but I am still so happy it is a four-day work week.
(If you want a good laugh, go through Rotten Tomatoes' section for Sherlock Holmes. Some of the less flattering reviews are uproarious. I sat by myself at the reception desk this morning, as no one called and no one came in, just laughing my ass off. Bad reviews are the best! Writers always come up with their best turns of phrase in them.)
So this is a Give Me Things to Write and I Shall Endeavor to Write Them post! You all know my fandoms and what I am willing to try (for the record, a few ideas off the top of my head: Sherlock Holmes (new movie or oldschool canon), Iron Man, Glee, Sons of Anarchy, The Mentalist, NCIS, Bones, How I Met Your Mother, iCarly, National Treasure, M*A*S*H, Hellboy, Firefly, True Blood... there are many many many things I'm willing to try that aren't on this list, so feel free to request others if you know I am familiar with the source material). I can't write anything dreadful or explicit due to being at work, but otherwise, I'm pretty easy. Give me a character or characters, a pairing, a situation you want to see somebody in, a word or a song lyric or a phrase... Crossovers, crack, angst, romance, gen, whatever else, and general ridiculousness are all a-okay. Just give me something to jot short things about. For the love of God, please. D: D:
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(Bonus points for McGee and Tony talking computers, or for Ziva humorously mis-stating an idiom. DOUBLE BONUS POINTS FOR BOTH!)
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“So you’re seriously telling me,” says Tony Stark, frowning, “that someone was killed in my office building, and not only was someone killed in my office building, it was a United States Marine.”
“Yes sir,” says McGee. “That’s the long and short of it.”
Stark sits up in his chair, leaning forward over the desk, and he looks quite serious for the first time since McGee entered his inner office. “Let me see the picture again.” McGee passes the full-color service shot of the dead man across the desk again, and this time, Stark spends several long seconds examining it rather than giving it a flip, cursory glance. “I still don’t recognize him,” he says. “Hey Pep!”
His personal assistant immediately appears in the doorway, which makes McGee stifle a smile, knowing how DiNozzo – in the personal assistant’s office – probably feels about her sudden absence. “Felix is going to be really unhappy that you’re talking to the agents without him,” she says, but she sounds resigned, like she didn’t expect anything less of him.
Stark waves her off. “Felix is a lawyer; he doesn’t like anything,” he says flippantly. “Listen, would you get this down to Cabe in security and have her look at it?” He flops the photo in his hand, and McGee clears his throat; Stark glances at him sideways. “That is, as long as the special agents don’t object.”
“He is only being an ache,” says Ziva, shouldering her way into the room. Stark’s eyebrows furrow.
“A pain,” corrects McGee, frowning. “And no, I’m not. I—”
“We have more than one copy, McGee. Ducky and Palmer are with the body; if you object so strenuously to the photo leaving NCIS custody, you could escort it to security.” Ziva is doing that saunter that she does when she’s sizing up a man, and she is, McGee can tell, even if her eyes are all over the office rather than on Stark himself. That beautiful personal assistant, in the meantime, has near-silently melted away back into her own office, which is quite a feat considering the shoes she’s wearing. “Gibbs directed that you go get the security tapes.”
Frowning even more deeply now, McGee tugs his cap down on his forehead. “You got it,” he says, and he’s halfway to the door with the backpack slung over his shoulder before he changes his mind and turns back. “Mr. Stark?”
Stark tears his eyes away from Ziva. “—Yes, Special Agent?” He somehow manages to make three simple words sound very insouciant.
“I just wanted to say, sir – reading about your arm aperture robots was what made me want to go to MIT. And the work you’ve done with arc reactors and the Iron Man—”
Stark looks half-bemused, but before he could say anything (or McGee could finish his sentence), Ziva makes a quiet rude sound. “I am beginning to understand why it is that Tony calls you McGeek,” she murmurs as she passes him, and much put-upon, McGee sighs and steps out of the office.
“I didn’t realize anybody in the federal government was still a fan of mine,” Stark says cheerfully.
“There are those of us who are not so troubled by vigilante justice,” Ziva says, sitting down in front of his desk. “So long as it is truly justice.”
Stark’s smile is broad and easy, and masks many things, Ziva suspects. “I couldn’t agree more, Special Agent…”
“Officer David,” she says. “Mossad liaison to NCIS.”
To his credit, his eyebrows barely lift. “Mossad? I love women who can break me in half with their pinkie,” he says, and Ziva laughs despite herself.
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