Fic: Leave it to Spanners - Lister/Kochanski, Ace/Spanners(implied) - PG-13
Wanted to post this real quick like, before I go to my cabin. Typos and errors ahoy probably; concrit apreciated.
Title: Leave it to Spanners
Pairing: Lister/Kochanski, Ace/Spanners(implied)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own it, I just write it, which makes me no money.
Spoilers: Dimension Jump
Notes: Written as part of the fanfic100 challenge - my table is here.
David Lister couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the whole base had started calling him “Spanners”. Somehow, Ace’s nickname for him had sidled its way into their collective subconscious, and now the only people who called him anything else were Kris and the boys. Ace’s silly little names for people had a habit of doing that. Why, for example, did everyone now refer to the station commander as “Bongo”? Lister had even heard his wife call him that once, during one of her rare visits. It was just one of Ace’s strange qualities, like… Well. Lister moved carefully away from that train of thought, and started gathering his tools together. He’d pulled an all-nighter which thankfully was almost over, and a good night’s sleep was looking very attractive indeed. That is, he would sleep… Eventually. Despite his exhaustion, a goofy grin haunted the corners of his mouth.
The insistent chime of his pagerphone started up, as it usually did, at the worst possible moment; just as he was about to press his thumb to the time-clock, thus officially going off duty. Not that he was ever really off duty. It just wasn’t that kind of job. You couldn’t exactly tell the pilots ready to take off the next morning that you weren’t sure their ejector seats would actually work, as you hadn’t had the time to check them over. And if a call came through that the landing beacon was off in hangar five, well, it didn’t really matter to the ships coming in that you were in the middle of dinner, did it? Still, he’d really, really been looking forward to getting home to Kris. To all sorts of things Ah, well, they could wait. “Spanners here,” he answered, as though it really was his name, idly wondering what the trouble was. The voice on the other end explained what the trouble was. Lister sighed, and put his toolbox down. At least he wouldn’t be needing that anymore today.
He was glad he’d brought a book. He’d reached the landing bay just in time to stop the crew from boarding Ace’s transport. They’d managed to get the pilot out through the emergency exit; she’d had the presence of mind to lock herself in the cabin. Even so, she gave a wistful sigh and a sultry look towards the passenger section as she hurried away, presumably to take a nice, long, cold shower. Well. She was only human, after all. Lister estimated it would take at least half an hour for it to be safe to enter the craft. The area surrounding the bay had been evacuated, and would remain empty for at least five hours, as per Lister’s recommendation. A medical team was on stand by, waiting for his “all-clear” signal, to go in and fetch Ensign Sloaken once he’d gotten Ace safely out of there. Glancing at his watch, he decided it was just about time. He sighed. Third time this month. He did have better things to do than baby-sit Ace, but never mind.
The cabin was in a much better state than Lister had expected. Apparently, they’d finished earlier than expected, and Ace had been able to tidy up some. He had also fashioned a sort of make-shift bed for Ensign Sloaken out of passenger-seats, emergency blankets and his flight suit jacket. It was tucked neatly under her head as she snored away happily, one hand squeezing an empty one-liter bottle of Astroglide. Lister shuddered. “Ace?” He called, with some trepidation.
“Ah, Spanners old chum! Capital!”
Spinning around, Lister found Ace leaning heavily against the wall at an awkward angle. He sounded cheerful enough, but he was clearly out of breath, his mouth open, his head sort of drooping. A terrible suspicion rose in Lister, which was more than verified when Ace started walking towards him with some difficulty. “Oh God, Ace, don’t tell me yer still…”
“Romantically inclined? ‘Fraid so, Spanneroo!” Ace tried to toss his hair nonchalantly, but the result was somewhat erratic and almost comical. Lister wasn’t laughing though.
“Could ya at least put yer jacket back on?” Getting Ace safely back to his quarters when he was on a post-sex high would have been difficult, at best. Getting Ace back to his quarters when he was in a partial state of undress and extremely horny would be… Well, presumably a new word would need to be invented for what that would be like. One that would be banned from dictionaries used by children.
“No can do, my friend. The lady needs her rest. God knows she’s earned it.” Ace’s eyes got a sort of far-away look, and Lister hurried him on.
“Alright then, but we have to get moving. I need to get the medics in to fetch her. Can’t have them barging in with you here.”
“Is there any way you could belay that for a few hours, let this young woman get some shut-eye? If I know the boys in Medical, they’ll be bothering her with tests and ointments all night. It’s always such a bother.” Earnest, flustered eyes pleaded at Lister.
Lister sighed. He couldn’t deny Ace anything. No one could. That was part of the problem. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Top form!” Ace tossed an arm over Lister’s shoulder, and gave him what was without a doubt supposed to be a friendly squeeze - because Ace would never want to put his friend in a difficult position - but all Lister could feel was fevered warmth, a trembling body, erratic breath and an almost telepathic broadcasting of pure need. Lister swallowed. He could take it. He was, in fact, the only one who could, to the surprise and disbelief of the rest of the base. And so, when a situation like this arose, they all knew they could leave it Spanners to fix everything. Yes, indeed; leave things to good old Spanners. Gritting his teeth, he threw his own arm around Ace’s waist, and supported the taller, more athletic man as they hobbled their way out of the ship.
The corridors were supposed to be cleared, but you never knew. This was Ace, after all. Lister kept turning his head expecting to see some hapless crew member rushing towards them with murder, or something not entirely unlike it, in their eyes. This time, however, they were lucky. Ace’s quarters were, at his own insistence, among those of the flight crew and engineering staff. He’d even tried to get a bunk-mate, or a place in the enlisted people’s dormitories, but this request had, for obvious reasons, been denied. “Well,” Lister tried to smile, “this is yer stop, Big Man.” He eased the other man’s arm off his shoulder, and moved away cautiously. “Are ya sure ye can handle things from here on?”
“Absotively, old friend. Assuming,” a worried look crept into his eyes, “my shipment from Miranda came in alright?”
Lister couldn’t help but shudder. He’d helped unload the mail-shuttle this morning. “Yeah, don’t worry; it’s all there.”
“Even the… Equipment?”
“Yeah, it’s all there, man,” Lister hurried, hoping Ace wouldn’t elaborate on its usage.
Relief flooded Ace’s features. “Jolly good! In that case, I expect I shall be fit for duty in two hours time.” He raised his arm as if to pat Lister on the back, then stopped, suddenly. Looking the other man intently in the eyes, he mumbled. “Are you sure you’re alright with this, squire?”
Oh God, Ace, Lister thought, not now. We were doing so well. “We’ve talked about this before, man,” he said aloud. “You know I couldn’t do that, what with Krissie and all to consider.”
Ace gave him an odd look. “You’re not affected by me at all, are you?”
The lump in Lister’s throat seemed to grow by the minute. “No,” he managed, trying to swallow it away.
Still keeping eye-contact, Ace whispered; “You know you’re my exception to the rule, Spanners old chap. You know where to find me.” And with this, and a toss of his always immaculate hair, he limped his way safely into his quarters.
Kristine Kochanski Lister was, above all, a sensible woman. She knew what a good man she had in Dave. He was a great husband, a wonderful father, and a caring, attentive, sensitive lover. And above all, he was loyal and faithful to the end. The fact that this loyalty and fidelity had a price that occasionally must be paid didn’t really bother her. After all, Dave was only human. When she heard his hurried steps in the hallway, his breath seeming to catch every other second, she knew what would happen. Briskly, she checked the secret drawer in the bedside table. There. Everything in order. Composing herself, she sat up in bed, waiting for the inevitable.
“Hello dear,” she smiled as he barged into the room, panting. “How was your day?”
Lister hardly looked at her, already half-way out of his overalls, hat thrown to the winds. “For God’s sake, woman; just shut up and put the wig on!”
Title: Leave it to Spanners
Pairing: Lister/Kochanski, Ace/Spanners(implied)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own it, I just write it, which makes me no money.
Spoilers: Dimension Jump
Notes: Written as part of the fanfic100 challenge - my table is here.
David Lister couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the whole base had started calling him “Spanners”. Somehow, Ace’s nickname for him had sidled its way into their collective subconscious, and now the only people who called him anything else were Kris and the boys. Ace’s silly little names for people had a habit of doing that. Why, for example, did everyone now refer to the station commander as “Bongo”? Lister had even heard his wife call him that once, during one of her rare visits. It was just one of Ace’s strange qualities, like… Well. Lister moved carefully away from that train of thought, and started gathering his tools together. He’d pulled an all-nighter which thankfully was almost over, and a good night’s sleep was looking very attractive indeed. That is, he would sleep… Eventually. Despite his exhaustion, a goofy grin haunted the corners of his mouth.
The insistent chime of his pagerphone started up, as it usually did, at the worst possible moment; just as he was about to press his thumb to the time-clock, thus officially going off duty. Not that he was ever really off duty. It just wasn’t that kind of job. You couldn’t exactly tell the pilots ready to take off the next morning that you weren’t sure their ejector seats would actually work, as you hadn’t had the time to check them over. And if a call came through that the landing beacon was off in hangar five, well, it didn’t really matter to the ships coming in that you were in the middle of dinner, did it? Still, he’d really, really been looking forward to getting home to Kris. To all sorts of things Ah, well, they could wait. “Spanners here,” he answered, as though it really was his name, idly wondering what the trouble was. The voice on the other end explained what the trouble was. Lister sighed, and put his toolbox down. At least he wouldn’t be needing that anymore today.
He was glad he’d brought a book. He’d reached the landing bay just in time to stop the crew from boarding Ace’s transport. They’d managed to get the pilot out through the emergency exit; she’d had the presence of mind to lock herself in the cabin. Even so, she gave a wistful sigh and a sultry look towards the passenger section as she hurried away, presumably to take a nice, long, cold shower. Well. She was only human, after all. Lister estimated it would take at least half an hour for it to be safe to enter the craft. The area surrounding the bay had been evacuated, and would remain empty for at least five hours, as per Lister’s recommendation. A medical team was on stand by, waiting for his “all-clear” signal, to go in and fetch Ensign Sloaken once he’d gotten Ace safely out of there. Glancing at his watch, he decided it was just about time. He sighed. Third time this month. He did have better things to do than baby-sit Ace, but never mind.
The cabin was in a much better state than Lister had expected. Apparently, they’d finished earlier than expected, and Ace had been able to tidy up some. He had also fashioned a sort of make-shift bed for Ensign Sloaken out of passenger-seats, emergency blankets and his flight suit jacket. It was tucked neatly under her head as she snored away happily, one hand squeezing an empty one-liter bottle of Astroglide. Lister shuddered. “Ace?” He called, with some trepidation.
“Ah, Spanners old chum! Capital!”
Spinning around, Lister found Ace leaning heavily against the wall at an awkward angle. He sounded cheerful enough, but he was clearly out of breath, his mouth open, his head sort of drooping. A terrible suspicion rose in Lister, which was more than verified when Ace started walking towards him with some difficulty. “Oh God, Ace, don’t tell me yer still…”
“Romantically inclined? ‘Fraid so, Spanneroo!” Ace tried to toss his hair nonchalantly, but the result was somewhat erratic and almost comical. Lister wasn’t laughing though.
“Could ya at least put yer jacket back on?” Getting Ace safely back to his quarters when he was on a post-sex high would have been difficult, at best. Getting Ace back to his quarters when he was in a partial state of undress and extremely horny would be… Well, presumably a new word would need to be invented for what that would be like. One that would be banned from dictionaries used by children.
“No can do, my friend. The lady needs her rest. God knows she’s earned it.” Ace’s eyes got a sort of far-away look, and Lister hurried him on.
“Alright then, but we have to get moving. I need to get the medics in to fetch her. Can’t have them barging in with you here.”
“Is there any way you could belay that for a few hours, let this young woman get some shut-eye? If I know the boys in Medical, they’ll be bothering her with tests and ointments all night. It’s always such a bother.” Earnest, flustered eyes pleaded at Lister.
Lister sighed. He couldn’t deny Ace anything. No one could. That was part of the problem. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Top form!” Ace tossed an arm over Lister’s shoulder, and gave him what was without a doubt supposed to be a friendly squeeze - because Ace would never want to put his friend in a difficult position - but all Lister could feel was fevered warmth, a trembling body, erratic breath and an almost telepathic broadcasting of pure need. Lister swallowed. He could take it. He was, in fact, the only one who could, to the surprise and disbelief of the rest of the base. And so, when a situation like this arose, they all knew they could leave it Spanners to fix everything. Yes, indeed; leave things to good old Spanners. Gritting his teeth, he threw his own arm around Ace’s waist, and supported the taller, more athletic man as they hobbled their way out of the ship.
The corridors were supposed to be cleared, but you never knew. This was Ace, after all. Lister kept turning his head expecting to see some hapless crew member rushing towards them with murder, or something not entirely unlike it, in their eyes. This time, however, they were lucky. Ace’s quarters were, at his own insistence, among those of the flight crew and engineering staff. He’d even tried to get a bunk-mate, or a place in the enlisted people’s dormitories, but this request had, for obvious reasons, been denied. “Well,” Lister tried to smile, “this is yer stop, Big Man.” He eased the other man’s arm off his shoulder, and moved away cautiously. “Are ya sure ye can handle things from here on?”
“Absotively, old friend. Assuming,” a worried look crept into his eyes, “my shipment from Miranda came in alright?”
Lister couldn’t help but shudder. He’d helped unload the mail-shuttle this morning. “Yeah, don’t worry; it’s all there.”
“Even the… Equipment?”
“Yeah, it’s all there, man,” Lister hurried, hoping Ace wouldn’t elaborate on its usage.
Relief flooded Ace’s features. “Jolly good! In that case, I expect I shall be fit for duty in two hours time.” He raised his arm as if to pat Lister on the back, then stopped, suddenly. Looking the other man intently in the eyes, he mumbled. “Are you sure you’re alright with this, squire?”
Oh God, Ace, Lister thought, not now. We were doing so well. “We’ve talked about this before, man,” he said aloud. “You know I couldn’t do that, what with Krissie and all to consider.”
Ace gave him an odd look. “You’re not affected by me at all, are you?”
The lump in Lister’s throat seemed to grow by the minute. “No,” he managed, trying to swallow it away.
Still keeping eye-contact, Ace whispered; “You know you’re my exception to the rule, Spanners old chap. You know where to find me.” And with this, and a toss of his always immaculate hair, he limped his way safely into his quarters.
Kristine Kochanski Lister was, above all, a sensible woman. She knew what a good man she had in Dave. He was a great husband, a wonderful father, and a caring, attentive, sensitive lover. And above all, he was loyal and faithful to the end. The fact that this loyalty and fidelity had a price that occasionally must be paid didn’t really bother her. After all, Dave was only human. When she heard his hurried steps in the hallway, his breath seeming to catch every other second, she knew what would happen. Briskly, she checked the secret drawer in the bedside table. There. Everything in order. Composing herself, she sat up in bed, waiting for the inevitable.
“Hello dear,” she smiled as he barged into the room, panting. “How was your day?”
Lister hardly looked at her, already half-way out of his overalls, hat thrown to the winds. “For God’s sake, woman; just shut up and put the wig on!”