Answering memes...drabble style!!!
Okay, so, my last entry was a meme and people asked questions and me, silly, silly me - instead of just responding to some of them like a normal person, I did drabbles.
But, hey, nice July 4th presents right?!
Title: Of Trains and White Boards
Author: she_burns1
Characters: Murray, Sheldon
Fandom: BBT/FOTC crossover
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,058
Summary: nonnymoose asked: If Sheldon from BBT met Murray from FotC how do you think that would go?
Disclaimer: I don’t own FOTC or BBT - I don’t own ANYTHING! *cries*
At first, Sheldon Cooper had thought it better to ignore the strange man who sat across from him on the train.
After all, he didn’t really know him and he felt uncomfortable being seated near someone he didn’t know - and he wouldn’t have been - if Leonard, Wolowitz, and Koothrappali had been better friends who weren’t so feverishly gripped by their uncontrollable hormones.
However, to their credit, it was rather fascinating that this train trip also resulted in another sighting of a famous actress from science fiction television (Billie Piper) and Sheldon very much wanted to do the math on how such an event could have even transpired.
He wanted to.
But he couldn’t.
Not with the man sitting across from him.
The man with the ridiculous ginger colored hair and beard who offered a hand as soon as he sat down, introducing himself without any provocation, “Hello there, Murray Hewitt, Deputy Cultural Attaché for the New Zealand consulate!”
Sheldon didn’t take his hand, instead eyeing it like some deadly foreign agent, before replying dryly, “Oh, I highly doubt that.”
Murray took back the hand, grin floating about his face nervously, “No! Really! ‘S true! I’ve got business cards and everything…now let me see,” Murray patted himself down, frowning, “Had them somewhere…maybe…might be in my other suit…”
“Regardless of business cards, I find it highly inconceivable that you are a Deputy Cultural Attaché for New Zealand.”
“I am though!” Murray said indignantly, then leaned a bit closer, voice conspiratorially low, “However, I do do a bit of moonlighting as a band manager. ‘Flight of the Conchords’. Eh? Ever heard of them?”
“’Flight of the’,” Sheldon shook his head, stunned, “There is no such Aves and even if there was, I highly doubt you could categories a group of birds into a musical production.”
Murray looked completely flumoxed, “I don’t…I don’t quite follow.”
“No, I don’t imagine you do,” Sheldon sighed, thinking yet again of merely ignoring him.
But Murray was not to be denied, “You sound like…a learned fellow…are you…a teacher or-or something?”
“I’m a theoretical physicist.”
Murray looked appropriately astonished, “Wow. Are you really? Sounds like an important job.”
Sheldon didn’t add to this, but, undeterred, Murray continued, “Sounds…scientific. A scientist! Oh! That’s what you are then! Oh, good money in science I’ll bet! Well, if you ever feel like investing some capital in an entertainment investment, don’t look any farther!”
Sheldon just eyed him as he went on, “That’s-that’s why I’m going to California, you see…looking for some investors for the band! Well…that and to finalize my divorce…my wife - I mean, my EX-wife Shelly, she’s there with…you know…her new…his name’s Blake - can you believe that?! Blake…’s girl’s name is what it is and…”
Murray continued droning on and Sheldon did a fine job of tuning him out. It wasn’t until Murray had a notepad in front of him jotting down notes, that Sheldon paid any attention to him again, his interested unusually piqued, “What’s that?”
Murray looked at him, eyebrow raised, “I told you…just a few minutes ago…making notes. ‘Bout Shelly. Tagging them on for the next time I have a band meeting. I think it best to keep Bret and Jemaine up to date of all developments…well, I mean, frankly…don’t-don’t have to keep them up to date on this information…considering it is highly personal…but considering this is technically also a business trip in regards to their band’s future investments-”
“Bret and Jemaine?”
“My band! Honestly, Flash! ‘S like you’ve not been listening!”
“Flash?”
“That’s your name, isn’t it? ‘S written on your shirt.”
Sheldon looked down at his Flash shirt and then looked back at Murray, stunned, “Wow.”
“Thank you.”
“No, that wasn’t…are you by chance, related to a young woman named Penny? Because you two seem to be of a similar IQ. Actually, no, I take that back as that is rather an insult to Penny,” Sheldon then blinked. “Huh, an insult…I recognized one! There! Told Leonard I could…”
“Not…not quite sure what you’re going on about there, Flash-”
“My name is Sheldon.”
“What?”
Sheldon gave a world weary sigh, “My name is not Flash. It’s Sheldon. Doctor Sheldon Cooper.”
“Doctor?! I thought you said you were a scientist!”
Sheldon just blinked.
Murray, unfazed, continued, “Now, Sheldon, you can’t go around leading people on like that! You didn’t see me introduce myself as a Deputy Cultural Attaché for New Zealand and then reveal I’m…you know…a bus driver or something.”
Sheldon raised an eyebrow, “Are you, in fact, a bus driver?”
“No!”
“It would not have surprised me,” Sheldon muttered under his breath, “Again, with your IQ levels…”
Murray sighed, shaking his head, “Now, aw! Look there! You’ve made me forget what I was writing! All I’ve got here is an ‘A’…don’t know what was going to come after that! Was I going to write ‘A potential investment’ or ‘A gig’…I don’t know now, can’t remember-”
“I don’t see why you are taking notes that way regardless,” Sheldon retorted, “It’s a messy and unnecessarily complicated way of writing up notes for your ‘hootenanny’ or what have you. A white board would be a much easier, and econmical way, of working these ideas out.”
“A white board?! Really?” Murray chewed on his lip thoughtfully, “Not a bad idea.”
“Of course not. I don’t have bad ideas.”
“Can’t carry a white board around with you, though.”
Sheldon rubbed at his chin now, the gears in his mind working, “True.”
“…and-and even if you could…it’d just rub the words right off….wouldn’t it?”
Sheldon’s pensive frown deepend, “Another point…maybe if you created a pen with a bonding agent that stayed with the board better-”
“But then…it wouldn’t wipe off…not good for a white board - doesn’t-doesn’t make it reusable. Might as well be back to pad and pen-”
“What about a cover to go over the board? Plastic sheeting making it considerably harder for the words to be easily wiped off?”
Murray thought hard about this, a small smile about his face as he regarded Sheldon with some wonder, “You’re genius!”
Sheldon smiled smugly, “I know.”
***
Title: Plans
Author: she_burns1
Fandom: BBT/FOTC crossover
Rating: PG
Word Count: 547
Summary: lordstarfish asks: I want to know what you think would happen if FOTC were across the hall from the BBT guys instead of Penny
Disclaimer: I STILL don’t own FOTC or BBT - I STILL don’t own ANYTHING! *cries*
“Leonard, those insufferable degenerated across the hall are playing their instruments. Again.”
“Yes, I know, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Leonard muttered.
Sheldon regarded Leonard with some confusion, “Leonard, I’m not a Captain-”
“Sarcasm, Sheldon, sarcasm!” Leonard stressed with a sigh, then shook his head, “I really don’t think their music is that bad.”
“Oh please, Leonard, it sounds like change in a dryer. All that tinkling and pounding-”
“Think that’s a triangle and a bass-”
“Regardless.”
“Well, at least they don't whistle." Leonard offered lamely and Sheldon shot him a look, sighing, he continued, "Sheldon, look, it's not like they always use the triangle. Sometimes it’s just the bass and the guitar. Besides, Bret and Jemaine are nice guys…they brought us a cake the first day they moved in. It had their faces on it, which was a bit creepy, but that’s beside the point.”
Sheldon sniffed, looking offended, “They brought us cake? I don’t recall them bringing us cake.”
“Yeeeah, that’s because I ate it all,” Leonard confessed, wincing.
“So, in actuality, they brought you a cake, as you alone ate it and they, therefore, brought me nothing.”
“Now, Sheldon, it was meant for us, I just-”
“No, right, you ate it all. Yes, I am aware, thank you; now the next time someone proffers ‘US’ gift I’ll make sure ‘YOU’ alone get it, as apparently the oxford dictionary should change the definition of ‘US’ to ‘YOU’.”
Leonard rolled his eyes to the ceiling, wondering why he had led himself into this, when there was a brisk knock at the door. Thankful for the interruption, he opened it and found Howard and Raj there.
“Hey Leonard, you ready?”
“Yeah, let me get my coat,” Leonard said and he grabbed his coat off the couch.
Sheldon regarded his three friends with confusion, “What’s this? What’s happening? I was unaware of any plans for the day until paintball.”
“That’s because you weren’t invited to these plans,” Leonard supplied, “Howard, Raj, Bret, Jemaine, and I are going out for coffee. You don’t like coffee. You don’t like Bret and Jemaine. And you don’t like - well, much of anything, so you weren’t invited. We’ll be back in time for paintball.”
“Don’t know why anyone wouldn’t like Bret and Jemaine,” Howard remarked dryly, “Especially Bret, he attracts women like a magnet.”
“But the women he attracts are bastards,” Raj remarked firmly, “Jemaine says so.”
“Raj, you’re missing the fine point here. He attracts women. PERIOD. I could care less if they’re bastards. They could have devil horns coming out of their heads - as long as they have all the other right parts - I’m there.”
“And it’s not like Jemaine or Bret have much luck with them,” Leonard added, “For guys that aren’t…you know…us…they do pretty badly.”
“Yeah, but there’s a reason for that,” Howard said, shaking his head, “You want to talk about two guys who really ARE trapped in an ersatz homosexual marriage.”
“I think the ‘ersatz’ part is unnecessary,” Raj added.
“Come on, let’s go, see you later, Sheldon,” Leonard said as he finished putting on his coat and the three exited the apartment.
***
Title: Pub Crawl
Author: she_burns1
Fandom: Doctor Who/FOTC crossover
Rating: R (Dave’s mouth and mentions of nakedness!!!)
Word Count:1,159
Summary: gutter_rhymes asked: If you HAD to write Dr Who/FOTC crossover slash, who would be slashed with who? And how would it be done?
Disclaimer: I believe BBC owns the Doctor and as for FOTC I don’t know who owns them right away, but it sure isn’t me!
Jemaine decided there was nothing scarier than waking up and not knowing where you are.
As he slowly became more and more awake, more and more aware, he looked around the bland room and came to the conclusion that he was in a hotel room. He had been in enough of them through out tours and his short time as a male prostitute to recognize them.
He sat up slowly on the left side of a cushy bed, the comforter wrapped snugly around his middle and scowled at the fierce headache that chewed at his mind. He tried to remember what had happened.
His mind felt like a jumbled mess - a string of pearls that had let go - all the little white beads rolling about. He tried to pick them up and string them together again.
Dave.
Okay, yes, Dave.
Good place to start.
Jemaine had gone to visit Dave yesterday.
Dave had given him a pretty hard time of it. About how Jemaine looked like a ‘dejected Italian bitch’ and how ‘he needed to not be such a pussy about Bret going out’ and that ‘Bret deserved some tail’.
And Jemaine hadn’t denied any of it.
After all, what could he do?
He certainly couldn’t talk to Dave about his feelings. Dave would flip out. As it was, Jemaine himself had been pretty close to flipping out ever since he had started to feel the feelings niggling at him.
Those feelings he got when Bret looked at him.
Or when one of Bret’s hands accidentally brushed his.
Or when Bret…
Just Bret.
Anything and everything about him lately made Jemaine feel on edge. Made him feel…fluttery. And now that Bret had this girlfriend, it wasn’t helping matters.
Stupid Susan.
Or stupid Sonja.
Or…Patricia? Stupid Patr…what was her name?!
Regardless, Bret had a girl now and that didn’t help Jemaine out at all. It certainly didn’t stop the fluttering feelings from…fluttering. In fact, it made them worse; sort of them made them twist inside his gut to the point of pain. So much so that he had looked for any distraction.
Hence his going to Dave and hence his…yes. Yes! That was it! Dave had given him a hard time about Bret yesterday and then he had told him about the Pub Crawl.
The Pub Crawl…
“Dude, you’ve never been on a Pub Crawl?” Dave had cried out, looking offended, “God, as if I needed any more proof that your country sucks! You guys can’t speak English, you don’t know shit about women, you hoard sheep or whatever-the-fuck and you don’t have Pub Crawls! Christ!”
Dave had explained how a Pub Crawl worked - how one of his friends drove a tour bus for the city and how they were hijacking it for the night to drive to different bars and drink. Seeing Jemaine’s hang dogged expression, Dave had feigned reluctance as he had invited him to come along.
“Just don’t embarrass me, all right,” Dave had said, though he had patted Jemaine’s shoulder as the words came out, taking any sort of true sting from them.
And so Jemaine had joined Dave and his friends as they had gone from bar to bar to bar to bar to…
Jemaine groaned and rubbed at his eyes, head pounding. He reached to one side and found his glasses on a nightstand table. He put them on and frowned. No wonder he felt so terrible. All over, in fact. His eyes stung, his mind ached, and his mouth felt like he’d been chewing on a dirty sock.
All though…the rest of him…
His limbs actually felt sort of fluid. Relaxed. As if he’d slept well…or…
And that’s when he realized he was naked.
At least he was pretty sure he was. Jemaine looked down at himself, blinking, then ran a hand over his bare chest, ducked it beneath the covers and oh. Yes. Naked. He was naked.
He licked his lips and looked around the room to see his clothes scattered here and there.
There was also…huh…
He narrowed his eyes at some of the clothing, frowning, as he realized some of it was not his own.
Jemaine swallowed and looked to the right side of the bed.
There was a noticeable lump there.
A noticeable, body shaped lump.
Jemaine swallowed again.
He wasn’t alone in the huge hotel bed.
He looked down the length of the right side and saw a leg poking out from beneath the covers. A long, slim leg that was most definitely not a female leg. At least, not a female leg if the hair lightly covering it was any definition. Maybe she was French? No, not with those muscles…
Jemaine looked at the leg a moment longer, then pressed his fists to his eyes. Okay. Okay. Last night, last night, last night - what happened last night?!
He felt pretty close to the edge of hysteria when he heard a muted groan to his right and froze.
Oh god.
Waking up.
He. It. Him. Person - next to him - waking up!
And he was, Jemaine, was, oh god, okay - naked!
Jemaine wrapped the blankets around himself tighter and watched with muted horror as the slim leg he’d been watching disappeared beneath the covers as the person on the right side of the bed shifted and moved.
Oh god, oh god - waking up.
Jemaine’s mind scrambled desperately at last night, trying to remember something, anything, and it kept tumbling and slipping, tripping over and over, again and again and all that came to mind were images of Bret.
Bret.
So slim of build. So sweet. So warm. So curly-haired and…
There was noisy yawn and the person to the right side of the bed sat up, revealing himself.
He was also slim of build.
He was also (most likely) naked, chest bare…
He looked at Jemaine with dark eyes and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. He looked sleepy but for a moment, then blinked, and looked so focused it bordered on ridiculous. His eyes twinkled and they were warm and in a way Jemaine couldn’t explain he reminded him of Bret.
The man licked his lips, frowning a bit, “Ah. Yes. Well. Hello.”
“’lo.” Jemaine breathed.
The man looked around a moment, then looked at Jemaine, “Any idea how we got here?”
“No. You?”
“No. Not a clue. It’s marvelous, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” Jemaine muttered, rubbing at his own hair, then asking sheepishly, “Um, I don’t…can I ask what your name is?”
“Oh, I’m the Doctor.”
“Doctor…?”
“Just the Doctor.”
This last one ends on a bit of an incomplete note but I just liked the idea of it ending there - probably because I am evil. Frankly, I don't really think the Doctor/Jemaine would work but this idea just burned into my brain and demanded to be written. I think it's pretty cracktastic. And hot. Really, really hot. Jemaine Clement/David Tennant *drools*.
STILL. A more likely slash scenario would be Captain Jack and - well - ANYONE (god, I love Jack, I look forward to watching 'Torchwood'). In fact, Taika/Jack should be an OTP of mine...
HAVE A HAPPY 4TH!!! XDDDD
But, hey, nice July 4th presents right?!
Title: Of Trains and White Boards
Author: she_burns1
Characters: Murray, Sheldon
Fandom: BBT/FOTC crossover
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,058
Summary: nonnymoose asked: If Sheldon from BBT met Murray from FotC how do you think that would go?
Disclaimer: I don’t own FOTC or BBT - I don’t own ANYTHING! *cries*
At first, Sheldon Cooper had thought it better to ignore the strange man who sat across from him on the train.
After all, he didn’t really know him and he felt uncomfortable being seated near someone he didn’t know - and he wouldn’t have been - if Leonard, Wolowitz, and Koothrappali had been better friends who weren’t so feverishly gripped by their uncontrollable hormones.
However, to their credit, it was rather fascinating that this train trip also resulted in another sighting of a famous actress from science fiction television (Billie Piper) and Sheldon very much wanted to do the math on how such an event could have even transpired.
He wanted to.
But he couldn’t.
Not with the man sitting across from him.
The man with the ridiculous ginger colored hair and beard who offered a hand as soon as he sat down, introducing himself without any provocation, “Hello there, Murray Hewitt, Deputy Cultural Attaché for the New Zealand consulate!”
Sheldon didn’t take his hand, instead eyeing it like some deadly foreign agent, before replying dryly, “Oh, I highly doubt that.”
Murray took back the hand, grin floating about his face nervously, “No! Really! ‘S true! I’ve got business cards and everything…now let me see,” Murray patted himself down, frowning, “Had them somewhere…maybe…might be in my other suit…”
“Regardless of business cards, I find it highly inconceivable that you are a Deputy Cultural Attaché for New Zealand.”
“I am though!” Murray said indignantly, then leaned a bit closer, voice conspiratorially low, “However, I do do a bit of moonlighting as a band manager. ‘Flight of the Conchords’. Eh? Ever heard of them?”
“’Flight of the’,” Sheldon shook his head, stunned, “There is no such Aves and even if there was, I highly doubt you could categories a group of birds into a musical production.”
Murray looked completely flumoxed, “I don’t…I don’t quite follow.”
“No, I don’t imagine you do,” Sheldon sighed, thinking yet again of merely ignoring him.
But Murray was not to be denied, “You sound like…a learned fellow…are you…a teacher or-or something?”
“I’m a theoretical physicist.”
Murray looked appropriately astonished, “Wow. Are you really? Sounds like an important job.”
Sheldon didn’t add to this, but, undeterred, Murray continued, “Sounds…scientific. A scientist! Oh! That’s what you are then! Oh, good money in science I’ll bet! Well, if you ever feel like investing some capital in an entertainment investment, don’t look any farther!”
Sheldon just eyed him as he went on, “That’s-that’s why I’m going to California, you see…looking for some investors for the band! Well…that and to finalize my divorce…my wife - I mean, my EX-wife Shelly, she’s there with…you know…her new…his name’s Blake - can you believe that?! Blake…’s girl’s name is what it is and…”
Murray continued droning on and Sheldon did a fine job of tuning him out. It wasn’t until Murray had a notepad in front of him jotting down notes, that Sheldon paid any attention to him again, his interested unusually piqued, “What’s that?”
Murray looked at him, eyebrow raised, “I told you…just a few minutes ago…making notes. ‘Bout Shelly. Tagging them on for the next time I have a band meeting. I think it best to keep Bret and Jemaine up to date of all developments…well, I mean, frankly…don’t-don’t have to keep them up to date on this information…considering it is highly personal…but considering this is technically also a business trip in regards to their band’s future investments-”
“Bret and Jemaine?”
“My band! Honestly, Flash! ‘S like you’ve not been listening!”
“Flash?”
“That’s your name, isn’t it? ‘S written on your shirt.”
Sheldon looked down at his Flash shirt and then looked back at Murray, stunned, “Wow.”
“Thank you.”
“No, that wasn’t…are you by chance, related to a young woman named Penny? Because you two seem to be of a similar IQ. Actually, no, I take that back as that is rather an insult to Penny,” Sheldon then blinked. “Huh, an insult…I recognized one! There! Told Leonard I could…”
“Not…not quite sure what you’re going on about there, Flash-”
“My name is Sheldon.”
“What?”
Sheldon gave a world weary sigh, “My name is not Flash. It’s Sheldon. Doctor Sheldon Cooper.”
“Doctor?! I thought you said you were a scientist!”
Sheldon just blinked.
Murray, unfazed, continued, “Now, Sheldon, you can’t go around leading people on like that! You didn’t see me introduce myself as a Deputy Cultural Attaché for New Zealand and then reveal I’m…you know…a bus driver or something.”
Sheldon raised an eyebrow, “Are you, in fact, a bus driver?”
“No!”
“It would not have surprised me,” Sheldon muttered under his breath, “Again, with your IQ levels…”
Murray sighed, shaking his head, “Now, aw! Look there! You’ve made me forget what I was writing! All I’ve got here is an ‘A’…don’t know what was going to come after that! Was I going to write ‘A potential investment’ or ‘A gig’…I don’t know now, can’t remember-”
“I don’t see why you are taking notes that way regardless,” Sheldon retorted, “It’s a messy and unnecessarily complicated way of writing up notes for your ‘hootenanny’ or what have you. A white board would be a much easier, and econmical way, of working these ideas out.”
“A white board?! Really?” Murray chewed on his lip thoughtfully, “Not a bad idea.”
“Of course not. I don’t have bad ideas.”
“Can’t carry a white board around with you, though.”
Sheldon rubbed at his chin now, the gears in his mind working, “True.”
“…and-and even if you could…it’d just rub the words right off….wouldn’t it?”
Sheldon’s pensive frown deepend, “Another point…maybe if you created a pen with a bonding agent that stayed with the board better-”
“But then…it wouldn’t wipe off…not good for a white board - doesn’t-doesn’t make it reusable. Might as well be back to pad and pen-”
“What about a cover to go over the board? Plastic sheeting making it considerably harder for the words to be easily wiped off?”
Murray thought hard about this, a small smile about his face as he regarded Sheldon with some wonder, “You’re genius!”
Sheldon smiled smugly, “I know.”
***
Title: Plans
Author: she_burns1
Fandom: BBT/FOTC crossover
Rating: PG
Word Count: 547
Summary: lordstarfish asks: I want to know what you think would happen if FOTC were across the hall from the BBT guys instead of Penny
Disclaimer: I STILL don’t own FOTC or BBT - I STILL don’t own ANYTHING! *cries*
“Leonard, those insufferable degenerated across the hall are playing their instruments. Again.”
“Yes, I know, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Leonard muttered.
Sheldon regarded Leonard with some confusion, “Leonard, I’m not a Captain-”
“Sarcasm, Sheldon, sarcasm!” Leonard stressed with a sigh, then shook his head, “I really don’t think their music is that bad.”
“Oh please, Leonard, it sounds like change in a dryer. All that tinkling and pounding-”
“Think that’s a triangle and a bass-”
“Regardless.”
“Well, at least they don't whistle." Leonard offered lamely and Sheldon shot him a look, sighing, he continued, "Sheldon, look, it's not like they always use the triangle. Sometimes it’s just the bass and the guitar. Besides, Bret and Jemaine are nice guys…they brought us a cake the first day they moved in. It had their faces on it, which was a bit creepy, but that’s beside the point.”
Sheldon sniffed, looking offended, “They brought us cake? I don’t recall them bringing us cake.”
“Yeeeah, that’s because I ate it all,” Leonard confessed, wincing.
“So, in actuality, they brought you a cake, as you alone ate it and they, therefore, brought me nothing.”
“Now, Sheldon, it was meant for us, I just-”
“No, right, you ate it all. Yes, I am aware, thank you; now the next time someone proffers ‘US’ gift I’ll make sure ‘YOU’ alone get it, as apparently the oxford dictionary should change the definition of ‘US’ to ‘YOU’.”
Leonard rolled his eyes to the ceiling, wondering why he had led himself into this, when there was a brisk knock at the door. Thankful for the interruption, he opened it and found Howard and Raj there.
“Hey Leonard, you ready?”
“Yeah, let me get my coat,” Leonard said and he grabbed his coat off the couch.
Sheldon regarded his three friends with confusion, “What’s this? What’s happening? I was unaware of any plans for the day until paintball.”
“That’s because you weren’t invited to these plans,” Leonard supplied, “Howard, Raj, Bret, Jemaine, and I are going out for coffee. You don’t like coffee. You don’t like Bret and Jemaine. And you don’t like - well, much of anything, so you weren’t invited. We’ll be back in time for paintball.”
“Don’t know why anyone wouldn’t like Bret and Jemaine,” Howard remarked dryly, “Especially Bret, he attracts women like a magnet.”
“But the women he attracts are bastards,” Raj remarked firmly, “Jemaine says so.”
“Raj, you’re missing the fine point here. He attracts women. PERIOD. I could care less if they’re bastards. They could have devil horns coming out of their heads - as long as they have all the other right parts - I’m there.”
“And it’s not like Jemaine or Bret have much luck with them,” Leonard added, “For guys that aren’t…you know…us…they do pretty badly.”
“Yeah, but there’s a reason for that,” Howard said, shaking his head, “You want to talk about two guys who really ARE trapped in an ersatz homosexual marriage.”
“I think the ‘ersatz’ part is unnecessary,” Raj added.
“Come on, let’s go, see you later, Sheldon,” Leonard said as he finished putting on his coat and the three exited the apartment.
***
Title: Pub Crawl
Author: she_burns1
Fandom: Doctor Who/FOTC crossover
Rating: R (Dave’s mouth and mentions of nakedness!!!)
Word Count:1,159
Summary: gutter_rhymes asked: If you HAD to write Dr Who/FOTC crossover slash, who would be slashed with who? And how would it be done?
Disclaimer: I believe BBC owns the Doctor and as for FOTC I don’t know who owns them right away, but it sure isn’t me!
Jemaine decided there was nothing scarier than waking up and not knowing where you are.
As he slowly became more and more awake, more and more aware, he looked around the bland room and came to the conclusion that he was in a hotel room. He had been in enough of them through out tours and his short time as a male prostitute to recognize them.
He sat up slowly on the left side of a cushy bed, the comforter wrapped snugly around his middle and scowled at the fierce headache that chewed at his mind. He tried to remember what had happened.
His mind felt like a jumbled mess - a string of pearls that had let go - all the little white beads rolling about. He tried to pick them up and string them together again.
Dave.
Okay, yes, Dave.
Good place to start.
Jemaine had gone to visit Dave yesterday.
Dave had given him a pretty hard time of it. About how Jemaine looked like a ‘dejected Italian bitch’ and how ‘he needed to not be such a pussy about Bret going out’ and that ‘Bret deserved some tail’.
And Jemaine hadn’t denied any of it.
After all, what could he do?
He certainly couldn’t talk to Dave about his feelings. Dave would flip out. As it was, Jemaine himself had been pretty close to flipping out ever since he had started to feel the feelings niggling at him.
Those feelings he got when Bret looked at him.
Or when one of Bret’s hands accidentally brushed his.
Or when Bret…
Just Bret.
Anything and everything about him lately made Jemaine feel on edge. Made him feel…fluttery. And now that Bret had this girlfriend, it wasn’t helping matters.
Stupid Susan.
Or stupid Sonja.
Or…Patricia? Stupid Patr…what was her name?!
Regardless, Bret had a girl now and that didn’t help Jemaine out at all. It certainly didn’t stop the fluttering feelings from…fluttering. In fact, it made them worse; sort of them made them twist inside his gut to the point of pain. So much so that he had looked for any distraction.
Hence his going to Dave and hence his…yes. Yes! That was it! Dave had given him a hard time about Bret yesterday and then he had told him about the Pub Crawl.
The Pub Crawl…
“Dude, you’ve never been on a Pub Crawl?” Dave had cried out, looking offended, “God, as if I needed any more proof that your country sucks! You guys can’t speak English, you don’t know shit about women, you hoard sheep or whatever-the-fuck and you don’t have Pub Crawls! Christ!”
Dave had explained how a Pub Crawl worked - how one of his friends drove a tour bus for the city and how they were hijacking it for the night to drive to different bars and drink. Seeing Jemaine’s hang dogged expression, Dave had feigned reluctance as he had invited him to come along.
“Just don’t embarrass me, all right,” Dave had said, though he had patted Jemaine’s shoulder as the words came out, taking any sort of true sting from them.
And so Jemaine had joined Dave and his friends as they had gone from bar to bar to bar to bar to…
Jemaine groaned and rubbed at his eyes, head pounding. He reached to one side and found his glasses on a nightstand table. He put them on and frowned. No wonder he felt so terrible. All over, in fact. His eyes stung, his mind ached, and his mouth felt like he’d been chewing on a dirty sock.
All though…the rest of him…
His limbs actually felt sort of fluid. Relaxed. As if he’d slept well…or…
And that’s when he realized he was naked.
At least he was pretty sure he was. Jemaine looked down at himself, blinking, then ran a hand over his bare chest, ducked it beneath the covers and oh. Yes. Naked. He was naked.
He licked his lips and looked around the room to see his clothes scattered here and there.
There was also…huh…
He narrowed his eyes at some of the clothing, frowning, as he realized some of it was not his own.
Jemaine swallowed and looked to the right side of the bed.
There was a noticeable lump there.
A noticeable, body shaped lump.
Jemaine swallowed again.
He wasn’t alone in the huge hotel bed.
He looked down the length of the right side and saw a leg poking out from beneath the covers. A long, slim leg that was most definitely not a female leg. At least, not a female leg if the hair lightly covering it was any definition. Maybe she was French? No, not with those muscles…
Jemaine looked at the leg a moment longer, then pressed his fists to his eyes. Okay. Okay. Last night, last night, last night - what happened last night?!
He felt pretty close to the edge of hysteria when he heard a muted groan to his right and froze.
Oh god.
Waking up.
He. It. Him. Person - next to him - waking up!
And he was, Jemaine, was, oh god, okay - naked!
Jemaine wrapped the blankets around himself tighter and watched with muted horror as the slim leg he’d been watching disappeared beneath the covers as the person on the right side of the bed shifted and moved.
Oh god, oh god - waking up.
Jemaine’s mind scrambled desperately at last night, trying to remember something, anything, and it kept tumbling and slipping, tripping over and over, again and again and all that came to mind were images of Bret.
Bret.
So slim of build. So sweet. So warm. So curly-haired and…
There was noisy yawn and the person to the right side of the bed sat up, revealing himself.
He was also slim of build.
He was also (most likely) naked, chest bare…
He looked at Jemaine with dark eyes and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. He looked sleepy but for a moment, then blinked, and looked so focused it bordered on ridiculous. His eyes twinkled and they were warm and in a way Jemaine couldn’t explain he reminded him of Bret.
The man licked his lips, frowning a bit, “Ah. Yes. Well. Hello.”
“’lo.” Jemaine breathed.
The man looked around a moment, then looked at Jemaine, “Any idea how we got here?”
“No. You?”
“No. Not a clue. It’s marvelous, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” Jemaine muttered, rubbing at his own hair, then asking sheepishly, “Um, I don’t…can I ask what your name is?”
“Oh, I’m the Doctor.”
“Doctor…?”
“Just the Doctor.”
This last one ends on a bit of an incomplete note but I just liked the idea of it ending there - probably because I am evil. Frankly, I don't really think the Doctor/Jemaine would work but this idea just burned into my brain and demanded to be written. I think it's pretty cracktastic. And hot. Really, really hot. Jemaine Clement/David Tennant *drools*.
STILL. A more likely slash scenario would be Captain Jack and - well - ANYONE (god, I love Jack, I look forward to watching 'Torchwood'). In fact, Taika/Jack should be an OTP of mine...
HAVE A HAPPY 4TH!!! XDDDD