if you read nothing else in this post, read the last paragraph!!!

[wakeupnew]

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:

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[wakeupnew]

The guard is the most disconcerting of the whole ugly bunch (and she's also the only one of the whole ugly bunch who isn't actually ugly). She sits in his rough-hewn cell for hours and hardly speaks, even after he has recovered enough (from the shock; from the blow to his chest; from lying in a pile of blankets in a haze of pain meds) that he begins to talk to her and then, when she doesn't respond, to provoke her.

She's completely unprovokable, and Tony Stark is really great at provoking, so that really says something. She sits there, silent and straight-backed and calm no matter what he says, her hair tied back in a ragged scarf to reveal her serene (truly beautiful under some streaks of grime, and don't think he hasn't tried that tack) face.

Which is why it is so shocking when one day (or night; in the caves through the mountains of Serenity Valley, who can tell?), she interrupts him while he's in the middle of a rather excellent monologue on precisely what he is going to do when he gets back to civilization (it involves more engineering and mechanical parts than most people's fantasies might).

"If you feel better enough to talk this much, you can answer some questions," she says. Her voice is low and a little husky, and just as modulated as the rest of her.

Tony only stops for a second; he tries to cover just how much this throws him. "Well," he says, mock-cheery, "I'm a Virgo, I enjoy long walks on the beach--"

"What're you doin' on Hera?"

"I came for the healing waters and I stayed for the scintillating company," Tony says, deadpan, one hand fingering the edge of the bandages wrapped around his chest.

She doesn't so much as twitch, looking at him steadily with the usual rifle resting across her (lovely, charming; beautiful legs) lap, casual as you please. "You came to show off a new weapon to the Feds. You're gonna build us one." She says it like it's simple fact; it's not a threat, it's not a promise. Just fact.

Tony's face settles into obstinate lines, and out of her sight against his side, he starts up a death grip on several blankets. "No," he says, and he doesn't know how she wordlessly, motionlessly summoned the guy, but a big Dust Devil comes through the door. Tony struggles to start to sit up when the big guy and the woman come toward his corner, but he isn't a fighter and he's weak and tired and unwilling to admit it but afraid, and with one of them on each of his arms, they haul him up like he's a toothpick.

As they drag him into the corridor, his chest feeling like someone has taken a sledgehammer to it, Tony thinks about the casual way that the woman summoned the other guerrilla, and he resigns himself to the conclusion that his guard is probably higher than a lowly guard in the hierarchy of this merry band of stone-faced idealists.