csi_sanders1129 | ganked from yaoibatman

I deserve this, I do! Jaspin because you are the only person who never gets tired or upset when I do request them. I want to tie into the current show. I want Sonny to decide that the whole Dante thing isn't his fault and to look around and because he can't blame Olivia as fully as he wants to, he settles on Spinelli. His reasoning is if he could find out he was a cop why couldn't he find out that he was his son. It's all Spinelli's fault that Sonny shot his son. Dangerous Sonny, vulnerable Spinelli, Jason needing to make a decision once and for all...

Something is wrong. Very, very wrong. Jason knows this the second he steps into the Penthouse.

Perhaps it’s the eerie silence. Perhaps it’s because not a single light is on as far as Jason can tell. Perhaps because the door was unlocked and partially ajar. Or, perhaps it’s the blood spatters on the floor.

He has his gun out before he even has the door shut behind him. Who is responsible for this? Franco? Zacchara? The police? His mind races as he searches for the source of the crimson liquid staining his floor.

Jason follows the rather disconcerting path of blood drops to where it proceeds to the upstairs, wherein the trail leads him toward the regrettably pink room.

“Spinelli!” He calls out, hoping beyond all hope for a response. For a simple explanation for all of this – maybe the kid shot himself in the foot again or something. But, no reassuring Jackal-speak comes his way. As he slowly edges the door open, however, he hears indistinct muffled noises.

Spinelli is pressed against the wall just to the side of the door, with a bloodied nose and the beginnings of what will undoubtedly be a blackened eye. He has some type of cloth stuffed in his mouth, which explains the muffled noises, and his hands bound behind his back.. And he looks utterly terrified, his eyes glued to the other side of the room.

Jason’s own gaze shifts to the unexpected sight on the other side of the room. Sonny. He’s armed.

Panic. Confusion. Fear. Anger. Stone Cold stance immediately invoked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growls out. He doesn’t want to believe this is happening. That Sonny could do this. He’s more than aware that Sonny is capable of murder, after all, it was Sonny who shaped Jason into the loyal mob enforcer that he is. But, there is no reason for Sonny to be anywhere near Spinelli.

Sonny waves his firearm around flippantly, letting it settle on Spinelli for what is probably not the first time. “It’s his fault.”

Jason reaches out to pull the cloth from Spinelli’s mouth, but the gun levels then, and stays pointed squarely at Spinelli’s head.

“Wouldn’t do that, if I were you. I’m in the mood for his psychotic babbling.” Sonny orders, and Jason drops his hand away from his grasshopper.

“What do you mean ‘it’s his fault’? What is?” He demands, his own gun pointed at the floor.

Poor Spinelli! Sonny would very likely blame him because the primary rule in Sonny's world seems to be, "It's not my fault!" I could imagine how confused Jason would be to come upon this particular confrontation, his mentor and his own protege.

“He found out that Dante was a cop. He should have figured out that he was my son, too. It’s his fault I put my own son in the hospital, Jason.” The elder explains, as if this should all be painfully obvious and there should be no more doubt about what must be done. “And I don’t care how good a hacker he is, he’s not good enough. We don’t need him anymore.”

Spinelli’s eyes, wide and terrified, shift from Sonny to Jason and back again. He mumbles out something that sounds something like a broken and choked ‘Stone Cold’ and Jason doesn’t miss it.

“You’re not touching him.” Jason responds, and a second later – as he resolves himself to what he very well may have to do here – raises his own gun.

Sonny laughs at him because there’s no way Jason would ever pick that stupid freaky boy, his protégé, over his own mentor. “Put the gun down. You know as well as I do that he’s not worth keeping around. Too much trouble for his own good.”

He doesn’t put the gun down. He, instead, steps directly in front of Spinelli, putting himself directly in front of any shot Sonny might make. “Don’t make me do this, Sonny. If you think you can make me choose here, you won’t win.”

If Spinelli were able to speak, he probably would have been going on about the complex dynamics of the mentor/protégé relationship that influence all three of them, but he’s not. He’s shaking where he stands, Jason can feel him.

Sonny looks indignant and disturbed by Jason’s words. “See? Not only is he at fault for what happened to Dante, he’s gone and turned you against me, now, too! He’s manipulating you, Jason. Probably has been all along.”

“Nn…” Comes Spinelli’s muted protest, but Jason reaches behind him in a motion to stay quiet.

This whole thing with Dante has obviously pushed Sonny over some edge of sanity that had been previously stable. It reads as pure Sonny though, blaming someone else for his own impulsive actions. Jason knows better. “Leave.” He orders, but it falls on deaf ears.

Sonny hums in thought. “You know what? I think you should do it. You should slay your own protégé. After all, it was you who brought him here, who pulled him into the business.”

With one hand still reaching behind him, he urges Spinelli to step to the side while he does the same. This motion gets the closer to the door – so Spinelli can make his escape – while still keeping Sonny’s shot blocked.

“Sonny, don’t you get it? I’m not letting you hurt him. Ever.” Jason informs his once-mentor. Another step. “What happened with Dante isn’t his fault.” Another. Almost at the door now.

I think that Spinelli couldn't find out who Dante was. Dominic Pirelli probably just starts and stops in records somewhere. Then in the police records they were simply referring to the evidence handed in as coming from an undercover cop. Yet, for a mob boss responsible for some pretty delicate decisions Sonny isn't very analytical or logical. He's just shot a man who's still in the hospital and he's at Jason's penthouse ready to shoot another one. Not a great learning curve.

“You’re telling me that your Ace of Cyberspace couldn’t Google Dante’s birth certificate or something and find out?” Sonny scoffs, doesn’t even seem to care that his captive is heading towards an escape. “

“He checked everything on Dante that he could find.” Jason speaks on Spinelli’s behalf, even as he spins him around to face the wall. He uses his pocket knife to cut the ties on Spinelli’s wrist. “Olivia didn’t want him connected with you and she made sure he wasn’t.” Spinelli turns back around again and they take another step toward the door. “Police. Go.” He whispers to his own protégé and shoves Spinelli in the direction of the hallway, to clear him of the range of Sonny’s bullets.

He fires a shot from his own gun at the wall by Sonny’s head to prove he’s willing to fire. This, the escape and the firing, seem to finally prove to Sonny just where Jason’s loyalties now lie.

“Traitor. I can’t believe I trusted you.” Sonny shakes his head, and now focuses his gun on a new target. “It’s just as much your fault as it is his, then. I’ll just have to get rid of you first.”

Sonny fires and Jason falls.

***

When he wakes, he’s in the hospital, with bandages wrapped around his chest and Spinelli’s sleeping form gripping his hand.

“Spinelli.” He says, his voice hoarse and raspy, which seems to be the usual post-gunshot wound state of things. “Hey.”

It takes a moment for Spinelli to pull himself back to consciousness, but once he’s managed it, he’s wide awake. “Stone Cold. You’re okay.”

“What happened to Sonny?”

“The Jackal has been informed that he is on his way to Pentonville to wait for his pre-trial hearing. Between Dante’s information and Sonny’s own crimes against us, the Federal Ones don’t want to take any chances.” Spinelli informs him, shifting his chair closer to the bed. “Should I call upon the Medically Inclined Ones?”

Jason shakes his head. “Are you okay?”

Spinelli nods. “I did not have time to get to the police station, but I made it to the elevator. Using the ‘Emergency Stop’ button I called upon the aid of the Top Cop and his associates to detain Mr. Sir before he could inflict any further harm upon either of us.”

“Good thinking.” The older man responds. His eyes fall on Spinelli’s hand, still wrapped around his own. Spinelli figures it out a moment later and pulls away. Jason finds he misses the contact.

“S-sorry, Stone Cold.” He mumbles out a hesitant apology. “Uh, might the Jackal make a single inquiry of his Master?” Jason nods, so he continues. “What transpired between you and Mr. Sir can be classified as the last phase of the Mentor-Protégé relationship, dubbed the Separation stage. When the student surpasses the master, as it were…”

Jason sees where this is going. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He informs his self-proclaimed protégé. He reaches out, reclaims Spinelli’s hand. “You’ve already done it – surpassed me, I mean. I think we skipped the whole Separation step, though.” Given how dramatic Sonny was about it, Jason isn’t sorry.

Jason fires at Sonny and when Sonny fires back he means to kill, selfish to the core. I find this whole analysis of the mentor-protege syndrome intriguing. That was cute at the end with Jason being glad they hadn't separated and holding hands. Sonny in jail with his claustrophobia, that is perfect.

In honor of the dvd release on Tuesday, I request Zombieland! Pairing is Talumbo, of course. ^^ And please beat the crap outta Tallahassee. Cause you don't find that enough...T__T

“You’re an idiot.” Columbus says, for what is not the first time this evening. “So fucking stupid I don’t even know how you survived this long. It’s simply amazing.”

He isn’t talking to himself, as some might venture to believe. But rather to the unconscious heap of a man he’s dragging back to camp. He has every right to complain. For one, its fucking cold out – snowing even – and they could both be sitting by the heater in the house they’d been squatting in for the last week, but, no… And, more importantly than the freezing temperatures, he’s worried.

Tallahassee had gone out sometime late last night and had still been gone when they’d all woken up. The girls were back at the house, still, waiting for him to return from his scouting mission of the areas nearby.

The older man has a broken arm, Columbus dares to assume, given the obscure angle it’s hanging at. He’s beaten and bloodied, but –and Columbus is thanking anyone who is listening for this fact – not bitten. He’s colder than Columbus is, given how icy his skin feels, and Columbus finds himself wondering what the hell could have happened to him out in the post-zombie-apocalypse world that would explain it.

“Fuck.” Columbus growls, as he trips over a rock and falls back. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Tallahassee is no help – he’s knocked out or in shock or in some state that is not conductive to moving his ass back to the house.

“What the hell were you thinking, anyway? Going out in the middle of the night with no supplies, now weapons. Fucking idiot.”

Finally, another hour later, he makes it back. They’re both freezing and soaked from the snow, but Wichita and Little Rock have the heat going on high for them and after rounding up supplies, the girls leave him to the task of getting Tallahassee back to his usual badass self.

Within the depths of Tallahassee’s bag – tossed on the floor beside Columbus’ own – he finds a change of clothes for the older man. He quickly goes about drying himself off and changing into the warmest things he can find for himself, and then sets about his appointed task.

The wet material is hell to get off of Florida, especially given the most definitely broken arm that he’s trying not to injure further, but, with a series of wet plops, the clothes come off and form a pile on the bathroom floor.

“Going to fucking freeze to death.” Columbus mumbles as he methodically dries the elder off. It is midway through this task, unfortunately, that Tallahassee wakes up.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Ohio?” Tallahassee demands, trying to sit up. Despite the murderous look in his eyes, Columbus shoves him back down. “You really want me to punch you, huh?”

Columbus somehow manages to keep him in place. “Try it. Have fun breaking your arm some more. I’m sure that will feel great.” He tells the other man.

Tallahassee stills and his eyes fall on his disfigured arm. “Well, shit. That does hurt.”

“Can I finish drying you off before you go all hypothermic on us?” He questions.

Tallahassee grabs the towel from the younger. “I can fucking dry myself off, thank you very much.” Somewhat incredulously, he uses his non-broken arm to shove Columbus away and then get to his feet. He sways, obviously not up to such a task just yet. He starts to fall back, but Columbus keeps him mostly upright.

“Yes, you’re very convincing.” He sits Tallahassee down again. “By the way, what the hell were you thinking?”

“Hell, it wasn’t my fault. I was trying to protect your sorry ass. A bunch of thugs showed up on my watch in the middle of the night. I chased them off.”

Columbus raises a curious eyebrow. “And?”

“And so maybe there were more of them than I originally thought.” The elder grumbled. “Just hurry up with your first-aid so I can go back to sleep.”

Columbus does as asked, gets Tallahassee as dry as he can before helping him into warm clothes and bracing his arm with whatever supplies they have. “There.” He says, finally, when all is done.

Tallahassee is already moving for the bed, slowly, and Columbus follows suit. “What now?” He grumbles, when Ohio sits down beside him, and shifts his way under the covers of the bed, too.

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

AWWWW!!! They're sooo cute. ^^ This totally made my night. And total bonus points for use of snow and cold, since right now outside has a high of....oh....*checks* -5

Glad you liked. Had to throw the snow in. I just trudged through a half a mile of it with a dog who thought it was a nice sunny day *drinks third cup of hot chocolate* :3

I like all the grumbling to cover all the love. Tough old Tallahasse has to depend on young wimpy Columbus, ha! Bedding down together, nice!

I have a bizarre pairing...Greg Sanders and Jack Harkness

Hee Hee ! Maybe one too many Bahama Mamas

It’s taking some serious getting used to, Greg thinks, living in Wales. He misses his friends back home – Nick and Catherine and Sara - but this is nice, too. In a different kind of way.

Strange things happen though – he’s baffled by the car with blue lights that appears at crime scenes. One of the PC’s he works with sometimes, Andy, is his name, calls them CSI: Cardiff, or rather Torchwood, and then spends the rest of the time staring at one of the girls on the team, even thought Greg is pretty sure she’s wearing a wedding ring.

The team is made up of two people. Andy tells him there used to be more, but they keep disappearing. Now it’s just the girl – Gwen - and one other guy, the leader. His name is Jack, Andy says, and he looks like he woke up in the wrong century. Clad in a navy blue pea-coat that looks like something military issue, he’s the one Greg ends up staring at.

One day, after some sort of creature (Greg is utterly convinced it wasn’t human, as nothing human can leave bite marks like that and then wander off on two feet) attacks a bunch of college kids hanging out in an abandoned building, Greg intends on a meeting.

He follows Jack back to the Millennium Center at Roald Dahl Plass and grabs the strange figure’s shoulder. “What the hell was that thing?” Greg demands of the pea-coat clad gentleman.

Jack considers him for a moment, eyeing him up and down. “A weevil.”

“A what?”

“It’s an alien. They live in the sewers.” He says, as if this is not an uncommon, or even unanticipated part of daily life in Cardiff. At Greg’s confused look he adds, “want to see one up close? We have one back at the base. And a pterodactyl.”

Greg, incredibly doubtful but nonetheless curious and intrigued by the man nods. “PC Greg Sanders.”

“Captain Jack Harkness. Pleasure to meet you PC Greg Sanders.” He grins and nudges Greg forward a bit. Suddenly the piece of sidewalk they’re on drops and began to lower into the ground, revealing some sort of base built into the underground.

“What is this?”

“This would be the newly rebuilt base of operations for Torchwood 3. Myfawny, the pterodactyl, does not bite unless you’re covered in special sauce. And Gwen – over there on the computers, just might. She’s kind of snappy as of late, but that’s just the pesky pregnancy hormones talking.” He marches Greg over to the aforementioned computer area. “Gwen, meet Greg. I’ve had my eye on him for a while now. I’m afraid I’m stealing another of Andy’s partners.”

“Welcome to Torchwood, then.” She smiles and nods in greeting.

“I’m confused.” Greg says, looking to Jack. “What do you mean you’ve had your eye on me?”

“I mean, Welcome to Torchwood.” He slings an arm over Greg’s shoulders in the way one might a longtime friend, but Greg doesn’t mind all that much, honestly.

Thank you for the ficlet. I loved it. I have seen CoE and I wished I hadn't. Again thank you.

That is precisely why I haven't seen CoE yet. Because I know what happens. It is sitting on a shelf on the other side of the room and it is entirely possible that I will never, ever watch it. xD Glad you liked.

Oh, Ben/Riley!

Yeah, please, please! Love this pairing. ^_^

Prompt: Ben has always been in love with Riley, who constantly talks about wanting to get the girl (for once), which hurts Ben and thinking he has no chance tries to open his heart to Ian.

~Leave the rest to you!

Ben spins the beer bottle he’s been sipping at for the last half an hour around absently as he watches Riley and what’s-her-name joke and hit it off.

“Ben?” Riley calls to him, tilting his head to meet the elder’s eyes. “You alright?”

“Fine.” He answers sharply. “Just thinking.” He doesn’t specify that he’s thinking about Riley and missed opportunities and yet another annoying what’s-her-name standing in his way. He’s loved Riley since they started this whole plot to find the Charlotte and now he’s hell bent on finding a girl for himself – since they always seem to be swooning over Ben.

It’s stupid, he knows. Riley’s… obviously not inclined to be interested in him. Not with all the girls he chases.

Suddenly overcome with the desire to get away from the bar, he downs the rest of his drink – all of perhaps two sips since he’s had it for so long – and begs off for the night. He claims some ridiculous excuse involving research, as if they haven’t already done all of that umpteen times.

He doesn’t even wait for acknowledgement before he’s out of there, walking back to the hotel they’re crashing at before they head out to the site of the Charlotte in the morning. Riley is sharing a room with him, so he heads to Ian’s instead. Just in case Riley does finally convince someone to come home with him. He doesn’t want to have to know.

“Ben.” Ian says, grinning at the unexpected visit. He stops typing on his laptop and pushes it closed. “What’re you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d drop by.” He answers with a noncommittal shrug. “So, you ready for tomorrow’s project?”

“Yup. Are you and your tech guy?”

Ben nods. “Yeah. Riley, he’s out. Should be back soon.”

Ian smirks. “I’m sure he will. Perhaps with one of those lovely young girls from the bar you two were at?”

“You’re following us?” Ben asks.

“Just protecting my investments, is all, Ben. Don’t need you two getting smashed and sleeping in tomorrow with nasty hangovers.” Their benefactor replies nonchalantly.

Ben leans against the desk in the room. “I’m not sure how creeped out I should be over that, honestly.”

Ian crosses the room to hover dauntingly in front of Ben, but his phone buzzes on the desk before he can respond. He picks it up, reads the message. “You’ll be pleased to hear that Riley’s on his way back now. Without any of those girls.”

Ben frowns. “Whatever Riley’s doing, it isn’t any of your business.”

But, Ian’s in his face again, looming with rather intimidating ferocity in front of him. “Oh, but I bet you want it to be your business.”

The door to the hotel room opens, revealing Riley. “Hey, Ben, I-” He stops, taking in the sight of Ian and Ben so close together. “Oh. I, sorry.” With that, he’s gone again.

“Riley…” Ben says, in an attempt to go after him, but it has no effect on the already closed door. He ignores Ian’s mocking laugh and crashes on the couch in Ian’s room because he doesn’t want to face Riley again just yet.

***

“I never liked him.” Riley mumbles, as he and Ben go trudging through the snow in the freezing cold Arctic air. “Hated him. All along. God, this sucks.”

Ben laughs, tugs his hood closer over his head. “You and I both.”

Riley pauses in his steady momentum forward, looking surprised. “Really? But, last night you…”

“Really. I don’t know what Ian was trying to do, but whatever you think you saw, you didn’t.” The elder answers, stopping as well. “I’m not… interested in Ian.”

“If he weren’t a deranged criminal out to steal the Declaration of Independence, would you be?”

Ben stares at Riley. There’s no way that Riley can be asking him what he thinks he is. “No. Ian’s not my type. I kind of… like someone else, anyway.”

Riley grins. “Oh, yeah? Who?”

Ben grins back. “Oh, you’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?”

OMG, I can't believe I was able to put off reading this for so long!! But I'm glad I did as the anticipation made it that much more exciting to read.

I love how you did this and Riley's personality is just prefect. Ben's POV fit so well.

I will be recommending this.

Okay, I just read this again. (has no life) And I just can't get over Ian's taunting! This fic is perfect! Thanks again.

Big Wolf on Campus, Tommy, "I don't get this obsession over Buffy".

(I'm here so I can do this too. XD)

“I don’t get this obsession over Buffy.” Tommy yawns as some episode or another plays on Merton’s television late one Friday night.

Merton turns to him, his hand paused halfway to his mouth with a handful of popcorn. Instead, he tosses it at Tommy. “Bite your tongue, heathen.” He scoffs in incredulity. “There is nothing greater than the magnificence that is Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

Despite the laugh he only barely manages to hold back, Tommy still doesn’t seem convinced. “Please, we lead more interesting lives than that, Mert.” He tosses his arm over the back of the couch, around Merton’s shoulders.

“How so?”

“Ugh, let’s see. Your best friend is a werewolf. We’ve beaten vampires, other werewolves, ancient mummies, Gorgons, witches and warlocks, Death, an alien who used you as a human incubator… Do I need to go on here?” He waves a dismissive hand at the TV screen. “We’re so much better.”

Merton pauses, considers this for a moment. “This is true.”

“It is. And,” Tommy grins, as he looms over Merton with a grin on his face. “I think I much prefer you over Sarah Michelle Gellar, believe it or not.”

Merton shuts off the television, turning his attention to Tommy, whose lips are on his before he can respond. “I’m beginning to come around to your side of things.” He lets his hands wander under Tommy’s shirt. “Who needs Buffy?”

That was fantastic. I think what made it even better was the lack of spelling/grammatical errors. Cheers, and thank you. >3

ganked from yaoibatman

Well, after the day I have had...

Stand Alone Complex Pt 1

Re: Stand Alone Complex Pt 1

Stand Alone Complex Pt 2

Re: Stand Alone Complex Pt 2

Stand Alone Complex Pt 3

Re: Stand Alone Complex Pt 3

no subject

Cold - Pt 1

Cold - Pt 2

Re: Cold - Pt 2

Re: Cold - Pt 2

Re: Cold - Pt 2

no subject

(I haven't seen CoE yet, so pardon any incorrect assumptions about things)

Re: (I haven't seen CoE yet, so pardon any incorrect assumptions about things)

Re: (I haven't seen CoE yet, so pardon any incorrect assumptions about things)

no subject

Ben/Riley

Re: Ben/Riley

Re: Ben/Riley

no subject

no subject

no subject

ganked from yaoibatman

Well, after the day I have had...

Stand Alone Complex Pt 1

Re: Stand Alone Complex Pt 1

Stand Alone Complex Pt 2

Re: Stand Alone Complex Pt 2

Stand Alone Complex Pt 3

Re: Stand Alone Complex Pt 3

no subject

Cold - Pt 1

Cold - Pt 2

Re: Cold - Pt 2

Re: Cold - Pt 2

Re: Cold - Pt 2

no subject

(I haven't seen CoE yet, so pardon any incorrect assumptions about things)

Re: (I haven&#39;t seen CoE yet, so pardon any incorrect assumptions about things)

Re: (I haven&#39;t seen CoE yet, so pardon any incorrect assumptions about things)

no subject

Ben/Riley

Re: Ben/Riley

Re: Ben/Riley

no subject

no subject

no subject

Re: (I haven't seen CoE yet, so pardon any incorrect assumptions about things)

Re: (I haven't seen CoE yet, so pardon any incorrect assumptions about things)