No. 6

Prompt: Stargate Atlantis, any, they always tell the new arrivals not to touch the Ancient gender-swapper, but there's always one who doesn't listen...
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/686659.html?thread=90226755#t90226755

Warning new expedition recruits away from the Ancient gender-swapping device was an exercise in futility and amusement. Ninety percent of the greenies hadn't previously served with Stargate command, so they didn't believe just how weird life could be on the other side of the gate, and they didn't quite know what alien technology was capable of, so when someone said a device did something beyond belief, those little marines just had to test it out.

Also, it was some kind of fallacy of fantasy, that a good-looking man would turn into a beautiful woman. John and Rodney had a scrap-book full of incriminating Polaroids that demonstrated how reality operated very much to the contrary. Rodney insisted the photos were for scientific posterity. John knew the photos - his and Rodney's included, as they'd been the device's first victims - were for troop morale. Not every weird thing that happened in Pegasus Galaxy was borderline apocalyptic. And marines made damn ugly girls.

Surprisingly few of the women in the expedition had been lured in by the mystique of the device, and most of them had just made for eerily androgynous or odd-looking little men.

So when the call went out on the radio, Code Tireseias, John wasn't too surprised. The newest wave of recruits had only been in Atlantis for a week. John tapped his radio.

"Major Lorne," he said, "bring the poor offending marine to me."

Someone cleared her throat in the doorway. "Sir."

John lifted his head and stared. The woman in the doorway was beautiful. She had wide blue eyes and full pink mouth, silky dark hair – and an ill-fitting uniform with dark grey patches on the jacket. "Lorne?"

"Sir," she said, "there was a fight between some of the new marines and our veterans. It was in the device storage room. Dr. McKay is very upset. We need your assistance immediately."

"Lorne," John said, "they just called a Code Tireseias. Report to the infirmary." But he stood up and pulled on his jacket, prepared to do his duty as the military commander of the expedition. Brawls that resulted in his XO being gender-swapped were unacceptable.

"If you don't mind, sir," Lorne said, "we know this condition isn't life-threatening. I think I'd prefer to sit in here and cry for a little bit." And she sank down in her usual chair, which now dwarfed her (and Lorne wasn't even a very big guy to being with).

John balked at the mention of crying. "Lorne," he began, but she shook her head.

"I'll be fine, sir. I just need a moment."

"Are you sure? I –"

The radio crackled on. "Colonel," Zelenka said, "we need your assistance in device storage room one. Dr. McKay is about to disembowel an entire platoon of marines with his laptop."

John winced. "Be right there." To Lorne he said, "Hang tight, Major. I'll be back as soon as I can."

It was a stupid promise to make. John was awful at dealing with crying women. He was good at dealing with an angry Rodney and unruly marines, though. All he had to do was promise Rodney awful punishment upon the marines to appease his anger and inflict the awful punishment on the marines to remind them about the chain of command and respecting the scientists. Thus internal peace was restored to the City of Atlantis.

He remembered his promise to Lorne, and for one awful moment he prayed for a Wraith invasion, but Lorne had been an exemplary XO since he'd set foot on Atlantis, and John was grateful for that. So he headed back to the office they shared with some chocolate ice cream he'd demanded from the KP marines and was ready for a crying girl-Lorne.

Except the sound of her soft, gut-wrenching sobs nearly broke him. He'd never dealt well when Nancy had cried, and usually when he was dealing with a man crying, it was because he was dying. John didn't do well with his own men dying.

He paused beside the door and took a deep breath, searching for comforting words.

And then he heard Dr. Hightmeyer say, "You know everything you tell me is confidential."

"I was good," Lorne sobbed. "I was so good. I listened. I didn't go near the machine. Not once. Didn't even look at it when they took me on the initial tour. I heard what they said about it, and I listened. If only those stupid marines had kept their damn egos in check –"

"Major," Dr. Hightmeyer said, "it's perfectly fine to be upset about being forced to be the wrong gender –"

"No," Lorne said forcefully. "You don't understand."

"What don't I understand?" Dr. Hightmeyer kept her tone soothing and gentle.

"This is the right gender." Lorne's voice hitched. "This is who I'm supposed to be. But I always wanted to fly, and so I pushed it away, pushed it down, and when I heard about the Ancient device I wanted – but I knew I couldn't – and now I know what it feels like and I want it forever and they're going to make me change back."

"Have you thought about asking Dr. Beckett –?"

"I can't ask," Lorne said, "and I can't tell. If I ask, they'll know, and they'll send me away, and if I don't have Atlantis, if I don't have flying the puddle jumpers or the 302's, I don't have anything. No one will take me if I'm dishonorably discharged." Her breath shuddered with more sobs. "And they'll change me back before I go."

John stepped back from the door, tapped his radio to a private channel. "Lieutenant Cadman," he said.

"Sir?"

"You're an explosives expert, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"I need you to see to it that the Ancient gender-swapping device has an irreparable accident without any of the other devices in storage being harmed."

"Sir? But Major Lorne –"

"Is fine. I'll protect you from McKay. Get it done. Tell no one."

"Yes, sir."

John took another deep breath and knocked on the door. "Hey! I'm here to reinforce a cliché." He hefted the tub of ice cream for Lorne to see.

Lorne scrubbed a hand over her face. "Sir, this is your office. You don't need to knock."

But Dr. Hightmeyer cast John a grateful look. "I'll be in my office if you need me, Major. We can finish this discussion later." She departed quickly.

John set the little pint of ice cream down on Lorne's desk. "So, what's your new name?"

Lorne, who'd reached for the spoon, was wide-eyed. "What do you mean?"

"When Rodney and I first got zapped, Teyla temporarily gave us new names," John said. "I was Joan, which wasn't very creative. Rodney was 'Meredith', for some reason. What should we call you?"

"Those names don't sound very Athosian."

"Well, she let us choose our own names, but she insisted we had to have new names for a while."

"Oh." Lorne picked up the spoon, eased open the carton of ice cream. "Um...Stephanie, I guess. My sister's middle name."

"I didn't know you had a sister," John said. He sat down in his own chair and leaned back. "Tell me more."

Lorne started to smile. "Well, she's a little older than me..."

No. 4

Prompt: Any (except Supernatural), Any/Any F, (617): A black suburban rolled up and a scary suited guy got out the passenger side and opened the door for her as she got in. Then drive off. Who did I just fuck?
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/686268.html?thread=90184380#t90184380

Barney wasn't a fan of the morning after, so he was cool with it when the really hot cougar chick with the black hair and thighs like Superwoman stayed on her side of the bed while they dozed in the afterglow. She'd had a British accent and seemed delighted to be out clubbing, and Barney was pretty sure he'd won the lottery when she'd ditched the pinch-faced guy with the glasses and opted to go home with him.

However, Barney also wasn't a fan of being woken up in the middle of the night. He was almost, almost in la-la-land and then she moved. Rolled out of the bed, and the motion, jerked him awake. He grumbled, but then he saw her striding around his bedroom, perfectly unabashed in her naked glory. She zipped herself back into her sexy little black number, tucked her bra and panties into her little purse, and slung her shoes up by the straps.

"Thanks for a lovely time," she said. "But I'd better be going. Maybe the next time I'm in your corner of the galaxy we can do this again." She winked over her shoulder, hair still ruffled, and strode out his front door.

Barney gaped for a moment, then scrambled to his feet, sheet clutched to his waist like an offended Victorian maiden. He peered out the window, and a black car rolled up. Tinted windows. Government plates. All the doors swung open. Two men, one the squinty guy with the glasses from the club, another guy without glasses who could have been his brother, and a mountain of a black man wearing a beanie hat that didn't really match his suit, stepped out onto the street. If Barney wasn't mistaken, they were all carrying firearms, even the squinty guy.

The black man offered the woman a hand into the front passenger seat, and Barney glimpsed a blonde woman in the driver's seat. She had short hair and was pretty but her expression was frightening.

Once Barney's date - she'd said her name was Val or something like it - was safe in the passenger seat, the three men piled into the back, and the black car rolled off into the night.

Barney watched it vanish down the empty street.

Then he scrambled for his phone and fired off texts to both Marshall and Ted.

He got his answer three weeks later when the government announced the declassification of the Stargate program and introduced its flagship team to the world. There, on television, was his one-night stand and all the people who'd come to collect her.

Barney gaped at the interview while his phone buzzed with an influx of texts.

A reported shoved a microphone in Vala Mal Doran's face.

"What's your favorite thing about earth?"

Vala looked at the camera and winked. "The men, of course."

Her teammates wore long-suffering expressions.

Vala added, "By the way, whatever your name was, the guy who played the strange game about meeting Ted, I think I'm having your baby."

The interview cut off abruptly, replaced by a banner message about a technical error.

Somewhere in the background, Barney's phone exploded.
*** On the other side of the camera, the reporters went from desperate for news to frenzied.

Sam lifted her chin, and the MPs who were on guard duty started to close ranks. Teal'c had a zat at the ready.

"Do you think she's kidding?" Cam asked.

Daniel gritted his teeth. "She better be."

Vala said, "I'm totally kidding. I hope. Three weeks is really too soon to tell on this planet."

No. 54

Prompt: Buffyverse. Giles. Getting used to the American ways.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/685961.html?thread=90173833#t90173833

Getting to the chemist's was a bloody disaster, mostly because in this heathen land it was called a pharmacy. After much miming and using half of a thesaurus, Giles finally found the place, a small, dingy place with harsh fluorescent lighting and sterile linoleum floors. He remembered the chemist shop from his youth, with its gleaming wooden counters and glass jars full of obscure remedies that could be combined into common remedies, like aspirin or cough drops.

Giles stood in the doorway, basket in hand, and was dismayed by the lack of overhead signs. The dispensary counter was not currently occupied by a customer, so Giles marched over to it. The girl behind the counter looked barely older than his newest Slayer. She was reading a magazine about 100 things boys find irresistible.

He cleared his throat.

She looked up. "Oh, hey. What can I help you with?"

Giles unfolded the shopping list he'd stowed in his pocket before leaving the school. "The lack of signage is rather disconcerting, and I think it would be most efficient if I ascertain the locations of my purchases before I wander the aisles uselessly."

The girl's smile brightened; that Americans found his accent charming was often useful. "Sure. What's first on the list?"

He was in dire need of office supplies. The school was woefully under-funded, but in conversations with other teachers he learned that most of them supplied themselves and accepted it as part of the job. He started to read, "Index cards, pens, rubbers –"

The girl made a choking noise. "What?"

"Rubbers," Giles said, enunciating slowly and clearly.

The girl turned an unattractive shade of puce. "Um, how about you give me the list, and I'll write which aisle each item is on?"

Giles smiled hesitantly and handed her the list. "Yes, thank you." The girl, still blushing, accepted the list and set to scribbling on it quickly. Then she handed the list back.

"Good luck."

"Thank you very much for your assistance." Giles scanned the list and headed for the nearest aisle with his required items. The girl had written several question marks next to 'serviettes' (for his morning cup of tea) and written 'napkins' next to it, which was utterly the wrong thing and caused him to blush. Horribly. But she hadn't led him down the feminine hygiene aisle, so maybe she wasn't as mixed up, or American women were terribly uncivilized.

Giles shied away from that thought and continued shopping. For all the girl's mercurial mood swings, she had been very helpful for everything, although the rubbers were near the pencils and pens and not down the aisle she'd listed. Out of an abundance of caution, he checked the aisle she'd written down as the location of rubbers anyway...and came face to face with a display of condoms.

And suddenly he understood why the girl had turned so red. He cleared his throat and ducked into the next aisle before anyone spotted him. Maybe he should have accepted that tutorial on Americanisms after all.

No. 3

Prompt: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Stargate SG-1 fusion, Buffy Summers + Daniel Jackson, Daniel in the Buffyverse where his obsession is Slayers rather than Ancient Egypt and he replaces either Giles or Wesley as Buffy's new Watcher.

Buffy was convinced that all Watchers came from the same family, because every one she'd ever met was tall, slender, bespectacled, and had brilliant blue eyes. None of them had been blond - Giles gray, Wesley dark, and now Daniel. He had lighter brown hair, and he'd probably been blond as a child, but he fit the Watcher mould to a T.

Except that he wasn't British, and he was much more excitable than the patient Giles and the stuffy Wesley. He spoke a couple of dozen languages and talked with his hands, and he was well-versed in Ancient Egyptian lore.

"Please, call me Daniel," he'd said upon introducing himself. "Calling me Dr. Jackson just makes people confused and try to get me to help with medical emergencies. Which are not my area of expertise."

"Heya, Danny," Buffy said, perched on the edge of a desk in the library and swinging her legs.

"Daniel," he said firmly. "My father called me Danny when I was a kid."

"And he calls you Daniel now?"

"He's dead." Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose. "Now, what's this about a yellow-eyed demon calling itself Apophis?"

Buffy blinked. "What about your mom?"

"Also dead," Daniel said, and his gaze softened. "But she lived longer than most, for a slayer."

Buffy stared at him. "Your mom was a slayer?"

"Yes," Daniel said. "She and my father both died when I was eight. Ancient Egyptian curse. Now, this demon?"

"Slayers can have kids?"

"Barring any medical anomalies, I assume so." Daniel flicked a glance over her. "You appear in perfect health. So, Apophis is the Greek name for the Egyptian serpent god Apep –"

"Ooh! Was your dad her Watcher?"

Daniel set down the heavy leather tome and leveled a glare at her. "No. Unlike Wesley, I will not be frightened off by come-ons from teenage girls, nor will I respond to them. We have work to do. If you want to live long enough to be a mother, pay attention."

Buffy pursed her lips. So she was always going to have a Watcher, and he was always going to be a buzz-kill. "Fine. So, serpent god. What'll kill a serpent?"

"Beheading is very traditional," Daniel said. "I think there is a special ceremonial sword the ancient Nepalese used to behead Nagas, which are snake-women. That might be appropriate. Come on, Ms. Summers. I brought additional weapons."

Buffy hopped off the desk. New weapons! Maybe Daniel wasn't a buzz-kill after all.

No. 2

Prompt: Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, The first time Rodney realizes John is his best friend (and maybe more).

The first time Rodney realized that Sheppard might be his best friend was when he sat down to lunch one day and Sheppared handed him a piece of apple pie. The last piece of apple pie.

"I thought you weren't so greedy that you wanted two slices," Ronon said.

"Apple pie's Rodney's favorite," Sheppard said easily. "I knew he'd pout if he didn't get to have any."

"I do not pout," Rodney said, but accepted the slice of pie and dug in gratefully. The only other person in his life who'd remembered his favorite foods was Jeannie, his sister. She was the closest thing he'd ever had to a best friend before she'd gone and ruined her life with motherhood.

Sheppard remembered Rodney's favorite food. That was what best friends did.

Huh.

Sheppard was Rodney's best friend.

But then Rodney was wondering what Sheppard's favorite food was, and when it would be made next, and if he could somehow arrange with the KP marines to set aside an extra portion especially for Sheppard.

And Rodney realized that yes, Sheppard was his best friend, but maybe he was also something more.

No. 53

Prompt: The Flash (TV), Barry Allen/Any rogue, “please tell me this wasn’t stolen.”
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/684795.html?thread=90039291#t90039291

Hanging around in an abandoned warehouse after dark was more like making a shady drug deal than making a date.

Barry started when footsteps thumped behind him. He turned.

Snart crossed the cement floor in a few strides. "Give me your hand." He didn't make requests.

Barry obeyed. "Hey, what's up? How are you doing?" He tried for a polite smile.

Snart grabbed his wrist. "This is a brand new Apple Watch."

Barry stared at the gleaming blank watch face. "Please tell me this wasn't stolen."

Smart fastened the band smoothly, his fingers confident and warm against Barry's skin. "It's been modified so you can contact your little Scooby Gang at a single word, and it can measure how fast even you run. I also installed the newspaper app where Iris works so you can keep an eye on your press."

Barry blinked. "Did you steal this from Cisco? Because he said he was going to give me a --"

Snart tugged Barry close for a kiss, quick and dirty and stolen. Then he turned and walked away.

"Hey!" Barry called after him. "What about our date?"

The watch beeped. It was a calendar alert. Dinner at an upscale restaurant across town in ten minutes. Dress up nicely. Depart now to get there on time. Barry took off in a crackle of colored lightning. Could he choose the right outfit in under ten minutes?

No. 1

(Harry Potter/Stargate SG-1, Harry Potter + SG-1, (AU post-books) Harry somehow manages to get himself transported to another reality and tumbles ungracefully out of Earth's Stargate. http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/683541.html?thread=89973525#t89973525)

"All right, Harry?" Ron asked.

Standing in the Department of Mysteries in front of the thing through which Sirius Black had vanished forever was difficult. He had been a faithful member of the Order of the Phoenix till the end, and the Wizengamot had finally cleared his name. Harry stood before the Veil and listened to its whispers.

"I'm all right," he said.

Hermione cleared her throat. "We can't stay down here forever."

Harry closed his eyes, wished he could hear his godfather's voice one more time.

A woman cried, "Harry!"

His eyes snapped open.

She said it again. No, not his name. She'd said, "Hurry!"

Harry peered at the veil, expecting to see some spectre of a woman. Instead, he saw himself. The Veil wasn't a veil at all. It was a sheer cloth covering for some kind of mirror. For one second, Harry was gazing at his own reflection, and then there was a low humming.

Ron said, "What's that?"

Harry's reflection flickered, and in its place was a woman, but she wasn't a spectre. She was tall and blonde. "Hermione," Harry said, "the veil's really a mirror." He pushed the fabric aside.

Hermione screamed. "Don't!"

The woman in the mirror said, "SGC, this is Carter. We're coming in hot!"

Harry felt that sharp tug behind his navel, like a portkey, and then he was tumbling arse over teakettle down a metal ramp.

In a cement room full of soldiers with guns.

He flailed to his feet. The woman from the mirror was there, followed by a massive black man, and two other men with brown hair and blue eyes who might have been brothers.

A voice from overhead said, "SG-1, status?"

The man with the glasses said, "Where's Vala?"

The other man stared. "Who the hell are you?"

Harry raised his hands like he'd seen In films. "I'm sorry, I think I'm lost."

The man with the glasses blinked at him. "Is it just me, or is that accent familiar?"

"Dr. Jackson," the overhead voice intoned, "are you telling me that Vala was changed into a teenaged boy?"

The other man sighed. "It's possible, sir. There was an Ancient device. It was shiny. I told her not to touch it."

The blonde woman peered at Harry. "Vala, is that you?"

Dr. Jackson smiled gently at Harry. "Everything is going to be fine."

The massive black man, who had a curious golden tattoo on his forehead, raised his eyebrows. "What is your name, young man?"

"Harry, Potter," he said.

Mitchell blinked. "Come again?"

"Harry Potter."

Mitchell winced. "Not Vala?"

Harry resisted the urge to reach for his wand. "No."

Carter furrowed her brow. "Let's see your scar."

Harry reached up, paused. "You know who I am?"

Dr. Jackson turned to Carter. "You do?"

The massive black man said, "You do not?"

Dr. Jackson's brow furrowed. "Teal'c, do you know him?"

Teal'c raised his eyebrows. "I am familiar with his life story."

"The scar, kid," Mitchell said.

Harry pushed his fringe up off his forehead.

Carter peered more closely at him. "It looks real."

Mitchell groaned. "Of course it is." He gazed up at the window overlooking the cement room. "Sir?"

"Get cleared by medical, and then escort our guest to a VIP room while we sort this out." The overhead voice sounded worn-out. "Any theories about how this happened, Carter?"

She turned to Harry. "Are there stargates where you come from?"

"Never heard of them."

Dr. Jackson said, "Did you happen to touch a strange mirror?"

Harry blinked. "How did you know?"

Mitchell smiled. "Quantum mirror. Piece of cake. C'mon, Boy Who Lived. Let's get you checked, fed, and then we can send you home, and we can get Vala back."

"Am I in America?" Harry asked. He followed Mitchell down the ramp. At a command, the other soldiers lowered their weapons and stepped back.

"Yes," Dr. Jackson said, "but probably not the one you're thinking of. Do you know Sam and Mitchell?"

"Sam?" Harry echoed.

"Major Carter," Dr. Jackson amended.

"No," Harry said. "I don't really know any Americans."

Dr. Jackson looked confused.

Teal'c placed a massive hand on his shoulder. "You may borrow my books, Daniel Jackson."

"Books?" Dr. Jackson echoed.

"Indeed." Teal'c turned to Harry. "Harry Potter, are you able to cast magic in this universe?"

Harry, who had started to reach for his wand, paused. "What do you mean, this universe?"