rillalicious: (hipbones)
[personal profile] rillalicious
So, I've written a couple of things lately, and I thought I'd share. (And [livejournal.com profile] scatteredlogic, I know I still owe you birthday fic. As soon as I finish up this big bang I'm working on, I'm going to get my head back into SS/HG and write it!)

So, the first one is for [livejournal.com profile] norgbelulah's awesome Summer in Harlan Commentfic Meme
Fandom: Justified
Prompt: [livejournal.com profile] oz_missage's prompt: Dickie, Mothers and Sons
Characters: Dickie Bennett, Mags Bennett, Coover Bennett, Doyle Bennett, Raylan Givens, Aunt Helen, Raylan's mama
Word Count: ~600
Rating: PG13 for language
Summary: The differences between Raylan's family and Dickie's had never been more obvious than the day Dickie got his limp. (Spoilers for S2)


When Raylan Givens nearly turns his knee inside out with a baseball bat, Raylan's mama is the first thing that Dickie sees. He wasn't looking for her, but he reckons the second that ball made an impact on Raylan's head, she was down at the fence. And there she is still, while Dickie's ears are ringing, and his knee feels like Raylan just batted the goddamn bottom half of his leg clean off.

Mama is still sitting in the bleachers, even with Dickie howlin' out all that left-over fight that his fists are never gonna be able to release. Doyle's sitting there next to her, glaring down at Raylan like he's wishin' he had his shotgun with him right there in the stands. Dickie flips over onto his side.

"Mama!" he cries out, and a couple of his teammates back up a little.

He didn't want to do it, even in all this pain he knew he was expected to be stronger than this, but he also knows that Mags can't resist when one of her boys needs her, and she's up and out of those damn bleachers, isn't she? His pride be damned right now.

Then Mama is there beside him, dragging Coover out of the brawl by the ear (he wasn't even playing in today's game, but Mama let him have his fun anyway), and crouching down over Dickie, and someone's saying something about an ambulance

By the time the paramedics show up and they have Dickie upright and calmed down enough to see straight, the crowd is starting to go home. The game's been called--too many players were ejected to leave either team with a full bench--and the fight has finally died down.

Dickie knows what Raylan and his mama are going home to, and he sneers over the seething flush of jealousy. They're going home in that rust-covered piece of shit from over a decade ago, and they'll have to deal with Arlo when they get there, but they're going home. Dickie's going to the hospital in the back of an ambulance. If he'd been just a little bit faster, it would be Raylan Givens getting loaded up in a stretcher.

"Coover," Mama barks, and Coover is there in a second, dutiful watchdog that he is. Dickie hisses a breath through his teeth, wishing they'd just close the goddamned doors already because he's not gonna cry in front of his mama. "Coover, you ride with Dickie. Doyle and I'll meet you at the hospital." If there's one thing Dickie can feel better about, it's that no one in this county or the next is going to argue with Mags Bennett over stupid shit like "procedure".

Coover climbs up into the back of the ambulance, and just as the doors start to close, Dickie can see Raylan's Aunt Helen taking Mama by the arm. It makes his stomach do an awful, flipping thing, because he's got this feeling, as Coover sits down beside him and starts ranting about taking a shot at Raylan first chance he gets, that Mama's going to tell him there's not going to be any reckoning over this.

"Coover?" says Dickie. "Do me a favor and just shut the fuck up?"

The paramedic shoots him a disapproving look and Dickie hisses at her. She looks away.

"Hey, Dickie," says Coover, and he sounds like he's trying to win back Dickie's approval. (Dickie kind of likes it that way.) "Bet Mama's gonna let you have all the apple pie you want when we get home. "

"Yeah," says Dickie, and for the first time he imagines that Mama's apple pie is going to taste a little bitter. "Maybe she will."


~~~



And for the Let's Get Gay Married Commentfic Meme
Fandom: Numb3rs
Prompt: [livejournal.com profile] klutzy_girl's prompt: Colby's visiting David in Washington, D.C., when they decide to drive up to New York. They end up eloping.
Pairing: Obviously, Colby/David
Word Count: ~1300
Rating: PG for language
Summary: Oh, so much fluff.




Colby's head thunks against the window again, and he straightens up with a yawn, rolling back his shoulders, and stretching his legs as far as he can in front of him. There are roughly 225 miles separating D.C. and New York, though Colby's not sure of the exact number of miles between David's front door and Central Park. Anyway, it's a long damn time to spend with his knees crammed just a little too close to the glove compartment.

"Should've taken the train," he says. "More room on a train."

David snorts, one hand on the wheel, and glances over. "Maybe you should've gone to bed at a decent hour."

Colby rests against the headrest, closing his eyes. "S'not my fault all the good movies start after midnight."

"It was Snakes on a Plane, Colby. I think we need to redefine your standards when it comes to 'good movies'."

"Hey, I've got standards. I also like to be entertained every once in a while." Colby opens one eye to look over at David. "Besides, unlike you anti-corruption folks, I still have to deal with terrorist threats for the FBI. Maybe I just want to be prepared. You know, in case the terrorists decide to go with a snake attack." His lips twitch. "On a plane."

David snickers and shakes his head. "Just get your beauty rest, all right?"

"Can't now. My taste in movies has been called into question. I feel like I have to defend myself."

"Think of it this way, your low movie standards balance out your ridiculously high dating standards."

"They're not ridiculously high. Just... particular."

"Uh huh," says David. "So particular that you haven't had a girlfriend in all the time I've known you?"

Colby closes his eye, folds his arms over his chest and shifts so that his shoulder is angled away. "Maybe I didn't want a girlfriend," he says, and he mumbles it, but he knows David hears.

For the next twenty minutes, the car is silent, and Colby can feel David's gaze shifting over to him periodically.

~~~

Halfway there and Colby knows he shouldn't be so fidgety. There's something about going on a road trip. With David. For the first time since David left L.A. It's like he's anticipating something, but doesn't know what.

"You want to drive?" said David.

"I thought you said you don't trust anyone with the keys."

"That was an exaggeration. I trust you."

"Really? Sure, I'll drive."

"I'll give you some time to think it over."

"No, seriously, man, I'll drive."

David smirks, glances sideways at him, then pulls off the highway the next chance they get. When he drops the keys in Colby's palm, they touch, just for a split second, and Colby's urge to grab David's hand, and hang onto him, leaves him standing there stone still, until David gives his shoulder a little shove and pulls away.

"You driving or not?" says David.

"Oh, I'm driving. Let me show you how a car like this is supposed to ride."

~~~

"I'm not whining, but we just stopped to switch drivers," Colby says, raising his eyebrows a little in annoyance as they pull off the road again.

"You'll still get to drive. I just want to stop and get something to drink."

It only takes five minutes and they're back on the road again, Colby still behind the wheel. David sips his Coke, sets it in the cupholder.

"What did you mean by that, earlier?" he says, and Colby knows exactly what he's referencing, but plays dumb anyway.

"By what?"

"That you didn't want a girlfriend. Weren't you always bitching that the spy thing kept you out of the dating pool?"

Colby sighs, shakes his head. If they're going to have this conversation, he'd rather have it on the way home. That way, when it all goes to hell, he can just jump on a plane back to L.A.

"Honestly, David, out of everyone at the Bureau, you were always the worst at spotting bullshit."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't think I could've made it any more obvious," says Colby, and he's an idiot, because he should just stop talking now before he has to explain it.

David thinks on this for a moment; Colby still knows him well enough to pinpoint the exact moment he puts it all together.

"So you're telling me," he says, slowly,

"You remember that stake-out?" Colby says. "When you came out to me as bi, just before the whole triple agent thing went down?"

"Uh, yeah. You don't forget something like that," David says. Colby knows it's a good part of the reason David had so much trouble getting over it when he found out Colby was a spy.

"Well... um... shots were fired, right after you told me. We never finished the conversation, and it was probably a good thing because I wanted to say... Shit." Colby pounds the heel of his hand on the steering wheel. "There's a reason I've been single since I started at the FBI, David."

"Hold up. You were... waiting for me?"

Colby rolls his eyes. All the cards are already on the table, right? He might as well go for broke."Christ. Do you think I've ever actually wanted to marry anybody else?"

The silence doesn't last longer than thirty seconds, but Colby thinks it's got to be the longest thirty seconds since he was on the freighter with Lancer.

"Colby, did you just propose?"

"I, uh..." He doesn't notice the speedometer drop, but cars go whipping by outside the windows. Shit. "There's no way to cover for that, is there?"

David laughs, then he throws his head back and laughs louder. "You're an idiot, do you know that?"

Colby can't help smiling just a little bit too, even though he doesn't know why. "What? What's so funny about that?"

"Just pull the damn car over, Colby."

Colby does. And David kisses him.

~~~

They get married in Central Park, and Colby's pretty sure that's going to become cliche very quickly, but right now it's new and it feels stupidly good to be here. He's called in a few favors, put in for a transfer to D.C. It's been a few years since he was offered the D.C. job, but being a 'hero' (even if he can't envision the term without air quotes when applying it to himself) really isn't something that goes away.

"Nikki's gonna kick my ass," Colby says. And she will, but he's kind of looking forward to telling her anyway.

"We could've done this in D.C.," says David.

"Yeah," says Colby. "I know. But I didn't propose in D.C."

"You didn't propose in L.A. either, and you had 5 years to do it there."

Colby snorts. "I thought we've been through this already."

"Yeah," David says. "We have. But now I've got the rest of your life to give you hell about it."

"Great." But Colby grins. "So this is what it's like," he says, sliding his arms around David's waist, "when you start off as an old married couple already?"

"I guess it is," says David. "So, uh, ready to head back to the hotel and make this thing official?"

Colby's already dragging him off. "Hell, yes. Then we can see the rest of New York."

Really, this has already been the best road trip ever.

~~~



And then I also wrote another Colby/David, for the [livejournal.com profile] n3teamchallenge Team Cold. This one is even fluffier, and much sillier:

Cold-Blooded


I've also been trying to clean up and organize my tags lately, so that I have an easier time navigating my journal when I need to look things up.

Hope you're all enjoying the weekend, flist. The weather is just gorgeous here!

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Rilla

January 2012

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