Friday, July 4, 2014

STRIP CLUB

AMERICAN HORROR STORY: COVEN-fanfic. This was really just meant to be a little joke to a friend. Cordelia gets traumatized.
(not really much of a pairing fic, but perhaps Myrtle/Fiona?)



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Disclaimer: American Horror Story: Coven belongs to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk as far as I know, and I am of course just borrowing the ladies for a little bit.

Why yes, this IS just a little brainfart, written for the amusement of a friend of mine.
And no, I know nearly nothing about the things I mention, but… Wikipedia. So now at least I know a little more? ;P






STRIP CLUB
-----------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




Having come home to find that all other inhabitants of the academy were not only out, but at a strip club no less, Cordelia marched off in an indignant huff to corral her youngsters back home where she could scold them for irresponsible behaviour.

Upon reaching the club – and manhandling people out of the way to get to the loud throng in front of the stage where some voluptuously shaped but far too young women were gyrating to what supposedly was music – she had not expected Myrtle Snow to be the first person she would find.

“Yes! Yes, take it off, take it all off!” Myrtle cheered with the rest of the spectators, giving Cordelia deep scars to her psyche.

“Myrtle!” Cordelia gasped and grabbed an aging but finely dressed arm. “What are you doing?”

“Cordelia.” Myrtle was as unruffled as ever. “My dear, I cheered for the child to bare her bosom, it isn’t as if I asked her to cover it in finely tempered dark couverture chocolate, flavoured with a nice sauternes, and sprinkled with crushed honey-roasted gevuina.”

The redhead sighed and looked dreamily into the distance.

“That was quite a night.” Fiona sighed on Cordelia’s left, an equal look of half-lidded lust and nostalgic remembrance as Myrtle.

Cordelia slapped her hands over her eyes and in soul-rendering horror screamed louder than anything else in the building.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”













---------------------------------

Bonus:

Cordelia stared at the stage in horror: “MISTY! GET DOWN FROM THERE!” A whimper. “AND PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON!”




Sunday, June 29, 2014

BEDMATES

AMERICAN HORROR STORY: COVEN-fanfic. Cordelia is quite sure she went to bed alone.
(Cordelia/Misty, Foxxay)



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Disclaimer: American Horror Story: Coven belongs to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk as far as I know, and I am of course just borrowing the ladies for a little bit.




BEDMATES
-----------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




Cordelia had gone to bed alone, of that much she was certain.

Ever since she had thrown Hank out her bed had been a big, solitary and sometimes a bit cold place – although in fairness her mother had burned the old mattress, the bedclothes and everything else even vaguely related to Hank in a fit of rage once his true identity was revealed, so technically this particular bed had been a big and solitary place from the start. The only other living thing that ever occupied it from time to time was Cordelia’s cat, Bastet, but the small black feline took up so little space that Cordelia would hardly know the difference.

Unlike right now.

Whoever was in Cordelia’s bed right now had managed to wake her from a rather intense dream in fact, so all in all? Not the cat.

The dream, oh that dream… It was a reoccurring one lately, and got just a bit worse, a bit more intense, every time she had it, and it left Cordelia feeling quite drained. Also it made her worry about her own mental state, since the dreams in question were in essence her subconscious mind debating herself while taking on the form of her two mothers. In the mess that was her dreamscape, Cordelia was being alternately advised or persuaded by Fiona and Myrtle on the topic of one Misty Day, or more precisely, on Cordelia’s growing attraction and feelings towards the young resurgent witch.

It was giving her a headache, not the least of which was from the fact that she couldn’t quite figure out which of the dream versions of her mothers were supposed to advice against propositioning the young woman who was supposed to be her student. Because so far the main difference found in the night-time conference sessions was that dream Myrtle spoke in somewhat flowery prose while dream Fiona was raunchier, suggesting more physical means of seduction and beyond.

Frankly some of the things dream Fiona suggested in terms of sex surprised Cordelia that she was even aware of. Perhaps it was all in the genes after all. Thank heavens none of the girls with growing mental abilities at the school were strong enough to enter her mind unbidden, because if some of these thoughts were to become known to her charges… Cordelia just wouldn’t be able to handle the embarrassment.

But back to the matter at hand. The weight and warmth that was currently sharing her bed was most certainly not a cat, and had most definitely not been there when Cordelia went to sleep. She would have remembered this.

There was sound, this surprise bed-sharer was speaking softly, and although she could not make out the words, the lilt and timbre of the voice revealed the identity of Cordelia’s guest even before she managed to pry her eyes open.

Misty.

Misty Day, the woman occupying far too much of Cordelia’s thoughts and dreams of late, was curled up on her side at nearly the centre of the bed, cooing and talking quietly to Cordelia’s cat. The very early morning light that snuck past the curtains was just enough to bathe the young woman in a soft glow, turning the mass of pale curls atop her head, even more unruly so early in the morning, into radiant gold.

Cordelia could not help but smile. The younger witch wasn’t even dressed, all she seemed to wear was a pyjama shirt and the for Misty ubiquitous knitted scarf, which she was using to play with the cat. Strangely, in a way the visit wasn’t even surprising to Cordelia, not really.

She yawned and the golden head she had admired turned towards her, blue eyes widening in what looked like pleased surprise, and Misty bestowed her with the loveliest smile Cordelia knew.

“Oh! Morning, Miss Cordelia.” The lovely little bed-squatter greeted sweetly, momentarily forgetting to play with Bastet who sat up in protest.

“Misty. You know, anyone who happens to be…” Cordelia hummed with sleepy amusement and cast a glance at the clock. “half naked in my bed before five in the morning” She shifted until she lay more completely on her side, facing her company. “has earned the right to just call me Cordelia. In fact, I’m going to insist on it.”

“…alright, Cordelia.” Misty blushed a little but agreed. Then she blinked. “Half naked?”

Blue eyes zeroed in on where Cordelia belatedly realized the covers had been pushed down as she moved, revealing the top part of her negligee, dishevelled in sleep so that it showed a bit more than it was supposed to. She fought the urge to blush and cover herself, never really one to flaunt herself in any way, but on the other hand Misty had snuck into her bedroom, unbidden, at night while Cordelia slept. She would just have to handle a bit of unintended cleavage in this situation, Cordelia decided.

That those blue eyes were studying Cordelia’s choice of sleepwear – or possibly what was underneath it – with undisguised interest had nothing to do with that decision, of course.

“So, why are you in my bed, Misty?”

“Ah!” Misty practically beamed at her. “We couldn’t sleep. I wanted to go into the garden, but the grass was still wet, so…” She indicated the cat. “She wanted to sit here.”

As simple as that. Somehow the cat had decided where Misty should spend her time while battling insomnia, and there was nothing strange about either holding conversations with a cat or crawling into someone else’s bed while that someone else was asleep in it. To Misty, it probably wasn’t. Cordelia conceded the point for now, but decided to revisit the subject once properly awake, if only to keep Misty from doing the same to Queenie or Zoe. Startling either girl from their sleep would not be a good thing, and would likely end up in injury.

The cat, already bored with waiting, purred loudly and stroked herself affectionately against Misty in an attempt to recapture her new favourite human’s attention.

“You just adore her don’t you, you little traitor?” Cordelia murmured with amusement. She loved her cat, and Bastet, although aloof sometimes as cats are, was a sweetie, but that cat had taken one good look at Misty and bam! Misty was clearly the favourite and Cordelia demoted to second place. Like nearly all animals, the cat worshipped Misty.

“Oh I do! I do, but…” Misty leaned towards Cordelia with such a wide-eyed look of concern. “I just think the world of you too, uhm, Cordelia.”

Spoken simply, so earnestly and straight to her face. Cordelia could feel her cheeks begin to burn while something tugged strongly at her heart. She couldn’t possibly mean…? No, no, that wasn’t possible. Misty was just being her usual sweet self. Surely?

After a long moment of awkward silence which had even Misty glance away shyly, Cordelia smiled kindly and patted the younger woman’s arm. “Thank you, Misty. You are so sweet.” She smiled warmly when blue eyes flitted back up to meet hers again. “I quite think the world of you too.”

Misty’s expression changed, and while still a bit shy she beamed happily again. Cordelia patted her arm again before pulling back.

“We really should both try to get some more sleep though. It is just after five and while we can afford to sleep in some, we still have a full day to get through, both of us.”

“Can we stay?” Misty asked immediately, eager. “Not to play, just sleep. I promise.”

Cordelia blinked a little, unsure of what to say. But the sight of Misty, so hopeful yet also certain that she’d be sent away, was just so endearing, how could she say no? “Sure, Misty. Just try to get some sleep.” She glanced over at the far end of the room. “There are some blankets in…”

Misty had already crawled in under Cordelia’s covers, laid her head on one of the pillows and pulled the covers up until they nearly reached her nose. Bastet was placed between them under the covers, only a tiny black nose peeking out and together with a pleased rumbling purr revealing that she was there.

A little bewildered but still not about to kick the woman she harboured increasingly complicated feelings for out of bed, Cordelia mentally shrugged and accepted.

“Sweet dreams, Misty.” She told the still smiling woman gently before closing her own eyes.

“And to you, Cordelia.”


They slept long enough that Zoe and Queenie came looking for them, naturally finding them both cuddled intimately together in Cordelia’s bed, the cat long since scampered off at the first sound of someone in the kitchen. As Cordelia bolted upright and Misty, more oblivious to the situation or just happy about it, got out of bed in a more carefree manner, the scanty and rumpled state of their clothing became quite apparent.

At the sight of Misty’s bare legs and barely buttoned shirt, Queenie and Zoe in an almost choreographed manner raised their eyebrows at Cordelia and smirked meaningfully. The state of Cordelia’s negligee made the smirks deeper and more insinuating, and then some disturbing little noises and knowing nods began.

Cordelia blushed scarlet and shooed them out of her room, but she just knew the damage had been done. For the rest of the day, or possibly days, Zoe and Queenie would tease her mercilessly. Not Misty of course, oh no, Misty was far too pure to tease, MISTY would certainly never sneak into someone else’s bed uninvited… and end up fondling that someone else’s posterior in her sleep by accident. Oh no, that was surely all Cordelia.

She leaned her face against the cool of the door, fighting to make the burning blush go away before she had to go meet her students. It was all because of that damned cat.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cordelia could swear she heard Fiona cackling.


Thursday, June 26, 2014

HOUSE RULES

AMERICAN HORROR STORY: COVEN-fanfic. Just a short snippet, in which there's a house rule regarding Misty.
(Cordelia/Misty, Foxxay)



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Disclaimer: American Horror Story: Coven belongs to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk as far as I know, and I am of course just borrowing the ladies for a little bit.




HOUSE RULES
--------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




Granted, Cordelia had been in her greenhouse for the latest while, but surely not long enough or far enough away from the others that she would not have heard any dramatic disaster that might have occurred while she was elsewhere. Right?

Yet the sight that met her upon entering the hallway instantly sent her heart to relocate to the area of her throat, and quite painfully stop. Zoe and Queenie were clearly panicking as they both flanked and led Misty towards Cordelia, and there wasn’t much these days that would make either of the young women quite this beside themselves.

Except this. Misty was silently crying, tears pouring out of wounded eyes and thoroughly washing that lovely face. Hence the relocation and stopping of Cordelia’s heart.

“What, what happened?” Was all she managed to gasp before her arms were full of weeping Misty Day.

Queenie and Zoe eyed each other awkwardly and fidgeted at first, clearly reluctant to say. Finally Zoe sighed and scratched at the side of her head. “Look, I wasn’t gone from the TV-room all that long.”

Cordelia tried to focus, although with a very warm, very distraught, and oh so very lovely Misty tucked into an embrace tight enough it helped solve that little heartbeat problem from earlier – only now it was working overtime instead – it had the added complication of being extremely distracting.

“Some of the girls needed some help, so I left Misty watching the TV on her own, just for a bit.” Ah yes, Zoe was talking, Cordelia should listen to this. “I know it was Animal Planet, and that we’re not supposed to let Misty watch that unsupervised…”

Now Cordelia and Queenie were both frowning, which made Zoe hurry her explanation. “But really, it seemed perfectly safe! She was cooing over some show where they save and raise baby sloths, and I wasn’t going to be long.”

She made a face. “But it took a bit longer settling the girls than I thought it would.”

“By the time I came in” Queenie cut in, gesturing at Misty. “she was watching something about baby lizards at an airport or some such, bawling her eyes out like her nana died or something.”

The head on her shoulder turned more towards Cordelia’s neck, and in a choked and emotional little voice she heard “Chameleons.”

“What was that, Misty?”

“Chameleons. Someone shipped 95 little chameleons in a crate to Japan.” A sob. “Only 16 survived.” There was something else, only too choked and garbled to make out. The plaintive ‘Why?’ at the end was as clear as anything though.

“I see.” Cordelia patted Misty’s trembling back as reassuringly as she could manage, while eyeing the two in front of her sternly. “And what exactly are the house rules regarding animal shows on TV? Hmm? Zoe?”

“To never leave Misty alone while watching Animal Planet or any show containing animals, particularly ones that contain animal suffering or human cruelty towards animals.” Zoe looked as if Cordelia had scolded her for a good long while rather than the few words actually spoken. “I really am sorry.”

“Alright.” Cordelia continued to pat Misty’s back gently as she steered them in the direction she had just recently come from herself. “Did any of the girls see her like this?” A small reluctant nod from Queenie and Zoe both. “Then you get to deal with that, Zoe. You and Queenie handle things here while Misty and I are… busy.”

“We’ll be in the greenhouse.” With that Cordelia, still hugging Misty as close as at all humanly possible, led the younger woman away while leaning in to speak quietly into her ear. Distantly the sound of a cassette player could be heard turning on, playing an increasingly familiar tune.

Zoe and Queenie watched them go in silence for a moment before sharing a look.

“You know what this means, right?” Queenie asked rhetorically. Zoe made a slight face but didn’t answer, she didn’t need to. “You deal with the kids, then we get to split the evening classes between us.”

She smirked a little at the miserable looking girl by her side. “And I think its only fair I get to pick which I’ll take, considering.” Looking pleased with herself Queenie sauntered off down the hall.

“Hey!” Zoe protested mildly, waving her arms a bit. “No fair!” She set off after her friend. “They have much more respect for you! They don’t listen as much to me, and…”

Queenie chuckled evilly while Zoe tried to persuade her friend to take the tougher class to teach as they reached the end of the hall and walked out of sight.


Sunday, December 1, 2013

CASUAL COMPANY

DOCTOR WHO-fanfic. An average day at Paternoster Row - more or less.
(Madame Vastra/Jenny, with mention of Doctor Who/River Song)


A small note to anyone that has left me a message on this site this past year that hasn't received an answer, I'm going to try to go through them and write answers soon, bit by bit.



Read CASUAL COMPANY




Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and Strax all belong to BBC and whoever else that own the rights to the Doctor Who franchise, I still haven’t figured out who they might be and probably never will.

In a way this little ficlet, pointless though it is, is my way of celebrating the 50 year anniversary. Now, do you know what the very best way would be to celebrate would be? If they gave us a Paternoster gang miniseries! ;)





CASUAL COMPANY
-------------------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





Mundane days were more or less nonexistent on Paternoster Row, although at least not all days tended towards the loud or violent.

Jenny Flint had been putting the final touches to a dinner that would then slowly simmer until Strax would be sent to bring it to the dining room. She had even checked things over twice so that the area was secured for Sontaran handling, a little habit she had picked up not long after Strax had joined their family. In their natural state not many things were ultimately Sontaran-proof, but Jenny had the advantage of advanced – sometimes futuristic, sometimes even alien – technology to her aid, for which she had quickly become grateful.

She had just put away her apron, straightened out her immaculate dress, and washed and dried her hands when she felt a hand on her shoulder. A head leaned in close on that side, and a warm voice purred appreciatively.

“Dinner smells just fabulous, dear. Got any wine?”

It wasn’t the head and voice Jenny would have expected. She was rather pleased with herself that she did not, in fact, jump in surprise, but instead merely raised an eyebrow as she turned slightly to face her unexpected guest.

“Professor Song.” As always the title was spoken with equal parts playful amusement, for they were friends after all, and admiration. While hardly a child of her age in most things, Jenny still felt immense admiration and pride in her friend for being a female professor, even if no-one else, River included, seemed all that impressed with the feat. “When did you get ‘ere?”

“Just now, dear.” River pranced away, eyes glittering with some private amusement as always. “I know my hubby is here.” She turned fully towards Jenny as Jenny moved to follow River out of the room. “So about that wi... ne...”

Something slammed elsewhere in the house, quite hard, and a few loud bangs followed. There was a roar, the sound of feet stomping both hard and fast, and Jenny could swear she heard the sound of china breaking. It wasn’t Strax’ usual antics, either.

Jenny and River shared a brief, wide-eyed look of alarm before rushing towards the noise.

Just before they reached the door to where the ruckus came from there was another bang, a scraping sound, and another roar.

“YOU KISSED MY WIFE!”

“Oh dear.” Jenny and River sighed in unison, albeit with completely different inflections.

“MY WIFE!”

Entering the previously so elegantly furnished drawing room Jenny did a quick take at the chaos. The sofa was overturned – likely the source of that first loud noise – as were the large coffee table, a side table and a pedestal. The Chinese vase that had previously been displayed on it lay shattered on the floor, one of the comfy chairs were missing pieces, and books and random small knickknacks had fallen out of the bookshelves.

In the middle of this mess were the Doctor and Vastra, Vastra’s lovely black gown ripped and the Doctor looking rumpled, with the enraged Vastra attempting to reach him and the Doctor – with a good grip on the far end – attempting to keep her away by dragging the other coffee table around the floor, keeping it between them.

“Come now, Vastra, it wasn’t like that.” He tried, sounding a bit desperate. “Please calm down.”

“YOU KISSED MY WIFE!”

Vastra made another lunge and the Doctor countered, spinning with the table. “It was a spur of the moment thing, didn’t mean anything by it.” Vastra feinted and he countered. “Can’t we just calm down and talk about it?”

Strax came bursting into the room, a large Sontaran gun in one hand and a flour-covered rolling pin in the other. “WHAT!” He jumped, aiming at first one corner of the room, then the other. “WHAT, WHAT?”

Strax as a rule did not handle surprises very well, and his usual response to being startled was to start shooting. Jenny and River, in a feat of amazing unspoken teamwork, nimbly plucked the gun from his hands and slid it down the hallway before he could start. It didn’t stop Strax from attempting to fire the rolling pin though, not that he noticed.

The leg of the Doctor’s table shield snagged in the tangled carpet and got stuck, and in desperation the Doctor traded it for Strax, wielding the short but stocky Sontaran towards Vastra while crouching behind him.

“Hi honey.” He gasped towards River, spinning himself and Strax when Vastra moved. Strax tried to hit Vastra with his rolling pin in a confused attempt to defend himself, while the hissing Silurian tried to reach over him to grab at the Doctor. The Doctor spun again and cast a desperate glance at his wife. “Help!”

“Hello sweetie.” River replied calmly, not moving an inch while Jenny took a few instinctive steps forward.

Vastra hissed louder and tried to simply barrel through Strax.

“I was speaking to MY wife, not yours!” The Doctor hastened to explain while bracing. “And honestly Vastra, she slapped me! She slapped me hard!” There was a note of hurt in his voice when he said that, like a part of him was a little boy that didn’t get why he’d gotten scolded for something he’d done.

“I certainly did.” Jenny stated calmly, loud enough that she hoped Vastra would hear her.

“Good for you, dear.” River approved casually.

Trying to ignore all else Jenny focused on her wife and calming her down. “Enough now. Stop this ruckus, we’re all friends ‘ere.” Vastra didn’t seem any less angry, but her posture changed, bit by bit, at the sound of Jenny’s voice. “Just calm down, m’love.”

As Vastra shifted slightly her ripped gown did the same, and a long, mostly bare green leg came into view. Jenny’s eyes snapped to that leg, and her mind went out the window.

There was a long, tense moment in which no-one spoke, Vastra did not hiss or lunge, but she also did not release her crushing grip in the three-way wrestling tug-of-war.

River cleared her throat and smirked at Jenny.

Coming back to senses and realizing she had just been caught openly ogling her wife, Jenny blushed bright red. She shook herself slightly and glanced away. “Come now, you’re scarin’ Strax.”

Vastra blinked at that and immediately let go of her grip on the flailing Sontaran. As Strax and the Doctor stumbled backwards from the sudden move Vastra straightened and seemed to finally calm herself. She turned to look at her wife, only to find Jenny blushing and averting her eyes.

Surprise and confusion passed quickly over Vastra’s features until her expression settled into a frown. Bright blue eyes started to blaze once more as she glared at the Doctor again, clearly gearing up for a second round of insanely jealous spousal rage.

Then she stopped for a moment and looked back, only now really noticing that River was present. River gave her a lopsided smirk and gestured none to discreetly between Vastra’s leg and Jenny, whose eyes had returned to stare at her wife with a rather telltale expression on her face. Vastra tilted her head and looked down at herself.

“Oh!” Blushing a darker green she pulled at her ruined clothing, covering herself better, and gave her wife a somewhat shy but pleased look.

“Yes. Well.” The Doctor mumbled as he slowly tried to inch his way from behind Strax and over to his wife. “Indeed. Good. No kissing of any kind, no sirree. And a no to the slapping as well.”

“I don’t know, sweetie...” River answered him with a wicked gleam in her eyes, catching the attention from the others in the room as well. “It seems awfully unfair to me.”

With a grin she turned to the unsuspecting Jenny, quickly cupped her face and gave her a resounding kiss.

Vastra gasped. Jenny made a startled and protesting noise. The Doctor whimpered and tried to go back to hiding behind Strax, but Strax waved his rolling pin at him threateningly.

“River Song!” Jenny gasped indignantly as she yanked herself away. “How could you! I am a married woman!” She reached over and smacked River in the shoulder. “YOU are a married woman! I’s not right!”

“Professor!” Vastra protested loudly, moving closer to her wife.

“Mm, I’m married.” River agreed while ignoring Vastra, that mischievous glitter still in her eyes and a confident smirk on her lips. “But I am a fantastic kisser though, aren’t I?”

Jenny made a little sound that sounded vaguely like agreement as she turned towards her wife.

Vastra gasped again and pouted, looking upset. She glared at River and growled, which just seemed to amuse the woman more, before grabbing her Jenny and pulling her tightly, possessively, into her embrace.

There was no time for anything more than a startled yelp from Jenny before Vastra had her pressed flush against herself, dipped her deep towards the floor, and proceeded to kiss her wife absolutely senseless.

After a moment the Doctor whooped at the kissing couple, while River chuckled. A little while later he started to look away and fidget, casting his eyes about randomly while smiling a bit embarrassed.

“Not this again.” Strax sighed heavily. “Once they start they take hours and hours to stop.” He stomped towards the door. “I’ll go to the basement before the screaming starts.”

He stopped next to the wide-eyed Doctor and River and added with a mixture of misery and disdain in his voice. “That one” He pointed his rolling pin at Jenny. “is by far the noisiest, but that one” The rolling pin pointed at Vastra. “reaches a pitch that hurts my ears.” He sagged a bit and grumbled. “Stupid mating rituals.”

“The neighbouring lowly human scum has asked what they’re breeding in here, and if it could buy one once they’re whelped.” Strax turned a concerned and earnest squint up at the Doctor and River. “Are they attempting to breed? I have explained the particulars of human-silurian interspecies reproduction and hybridisation to them before, but...”

“YES Strax, thank you.” Finally releasing her wife’s lips Vastra straightened, sending Strax a warning glare. “That is quite enough. Go play with your grenades until supper.”

The Doctor and River watched avidly, trying not to stare at Jenny who was still slumped over and gasping in her wife’s arms, and also trying very hard to tell themselves that they did not in fact see the tip of Vastra’s tongue quickly slither back behind her own lips just before she spoke up to interrupt Strax.

For a moment Strax rebelled. “But I was going to perfect my pie bomb recipe!” He whined, even though he had been only too willing to leave the room mere seconds before.

“Go play, or stay here and start the cleaning up. It is your choice.” Vastra declared, and grumbling Strax stomped away down the hall.

A moment after Strax had disappeared from sight and as Vastra was gently making sure Jenny was alright to stand on her own, the Doctor suddenly gasped and pointed at Jenny. “HEY!”

They all started as he shook the finger accusingly. “Hey! What? No. Hey!” He pointed at River. “No slappy!” He pointed back at Jenny. “The kissing!” Finally back at River again. “Why no slapping with her?”

Jenny wasn’t the only one that stared at him in confusion.

“You, her, with the, the...” The Doctor made some exaggerated and fish-like movements with his lips. “the smooching, there was no slapping! Why?” He put a hand to his chest, affronted. “When I did it, because I was happy to be alive and moving, I got the slapping!”

“Oh don’t worry sweetie, there will be slapping soon.” River told him archly, causing the Doctor to gulp. “Someone will get slapped very soon, I guarantee it.”

After a brief hesitation Jenny stepped forward, trying to carefully urge everyone out of the room. “I think per’aps we ought to retire to anot’er room,” She looked at Vastra as they all stepped into the hall. “while you change into a new dress?”

Vastra pulled self-consciously at her ruined gown. “It would be best.” Then she eyed the Doctor. “Doctor?”

“Uhm, yes Vastra?”

“Gallifreyan or no, you had best keep hands and lips away from my wife henceforth.”

“Yes Madame!” He agreed loudly and saluted, then made sure to keep River between himself and Jenny to be on the safe side. “Absolutely no lips whatsoever.”

“So that means my lips and hands are still allowed?” River teased, tapping her chin as if in thought. “Mmm, the possibilities.”

With a few long quick strides Vastra shot past River, intending to have a little chat about accosting other people’s wives, but she never got quite that far.

As she passed River there was a loud slap, and an equally loud high-pitched yelp.

Somewhere far away in the house Strax could be heard complaining about pain to his ears.

With a grin River held up her hand, flexing the fingers. Slowly both Jenny and the Doctor looked from that hand and that grin to Vastra, blushing dark green yet again while holding both hands to her rear. River giggled.

“Are you insane?” The Doctor hissed to his wife, quickly grabbing her arm and pushing her in front of him as she was clearly not moving fast enough.

Jenny calmly walked across the hall.

“An angry Vastra can be reasoned with eventually. As long as you keep her from remembering that she can use her venom on you until she’s calmed down, you’re fine.” A pause. “Probably.”

Vastra looked a bit stunned at that, having indeed forgotten to use her tongue earlier in all her anger. Jenny reached the stand where her and Vastra’s swords were placed when not in use.

“An angry Jenny though...” He didn’t finish his sentence as Jenny unsheathed her katana and turned around. Instead of pushing at her he grabbed River’s hand. “River, RUN!”

And they did, River while still laughing and the Doctor while shouting, down the corridor and turning towards the back of the house where the Doctor had parked the TARDIS. Jenny, still not saying anything, held her sword high and set off running after them.

Vastra stood for a moment still, in a torn dress and with a stinging backside, staring in the direction her wife and their guests had gone. Screams and shouts echoed throughout the house.

“Jenny!” She wrenched herself back into motion and set off after them. “Don’t run so recklessly with a sword in your hands!” There was a thud and a shout somewhere. “JENNY!”


No, not all days at Paternoster Row were filled with loud noises, shouting and violence. But then there were days when their friends would come to visit.


Wednesday, April 10, 2013

When Elves Sing Pt3 END

Elfen Lied-fanfic. Set after the end of the series. What became of Lucy and the others at Kaede House after the events in the series? For that matter, what will happen to the diclonius race?
Third and final part of a story that is now finished at long last.
(Lucy/Aiko, Nana/Mayu)





Read WHEN ELVES SING PT3 END







Disclaimer: see part 1.





When Elves Sing Pt3 END
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson








When Lucy had officially made Nana her younger sister and second in command in both the Diclonius Foundation and what the world at large considered their ‘family company’, Nana had not imagined it would entail accepting interviews and appearing on talk shows in Lucy’s place and on behalf of her entire species, yet here she was. Fortunately the years had given Nana experience with these things so that she had little cause for concern, in fact some things even amused her secretly, like the perfectly coiffed hostess covering up what had just before the show been barely concealed boredom with excessive enthusiasm and interest that really wasn’t going to land her a better job anytime soon.

Nana herself was impeccably dressed, though too formally so, in dark blues and a slash of warm pink, knowing well how this made her appear far less forbidding and intimidating than Lucy’s style of all-black and all-strict business wardrobe. It was for the sake of all their kind that Nana, with her usually friendly smile and more accessible appearance, was the public image of the Blackhorn family and the Diclonius Foundation. Lucy, sometimes without really meaning to, tended to frighten people... a lot.

She answered questions with a warm and pleasant voice, keeping an honest face and the impression of something like the friendly woman next door, smiling a lot and even laughing slightly at the hostess quite tired attempt at a joke earlier. While this would have been in her nature to do anyway, sadly it was a quite calculated thing in situations like these. Inwardly she sighed and wished, if only briefly, that it was over so she could go home and just hug her wife.

“...the first Kaede House. As you all know, ‘Kaede House’ are the dormitory-like buildings where upper teenage diclonii live during their school years until they are ready to live on their own, as good adult members of society.” The question had been about the commonly called ‘diclonii-town’ in Kamakura, and why this specific part of the country has such a higher concentration of diclonius girls than anywhere else in Japan. Nana hedged the question slightly, her reply focusing on the first Kaede House and its later companions, where the older children had been housed while adapting to life among humans, as if that was the reason. It was only part of it though, as in truth the area around Kamakura held a higher diclonius birth-rate than any other place in Japan, but thanks to many humans still opting to abandon their newborns to the Foundation the actual numbers was something the public had no knowledge of.

“While we are building Kaede Houses and schools on several locations around the country, the concentration of diclonius in Kamakura will likely always be a bit higher than in other places, mainly because it is convenient but also because the people in Kamakura tend to be very understanding and accepting of little diclonius girls.” Nana smiled and waved at the camera as if she was sending a greeting to the people of her hometown. “I’m sure the other cities we have located in will prove to be stable and understanding environments for our little girls as well, aside from a bit of initial growing pains. And if nothing else, our presence means a lot of employment possibilities and should do some good for the local economy.”

“Ah yes, the unemployment rate does seem to have dropped quite a bit in all places where the Diclonius Foundation has established itself.” The hostess made no secret out of reading from her card. “We have a representative from one of the cities you recently announced as a future location for a Kaede House with us today, let's see if he has anything to say?” She twirled around and pointed to a lean man that looked uncomfortable in his ‘on TV’ finery.

The gruff-sounding man asked several questions about job opportunities in both the long and short term that the Diclonius Foundation was bringing, and Nana replied as best she could, referring him to the websites for both Blackhorn Corporated and the Diclonius Foundation for specific details in his particular town, but also promised to speak with him privately after the show. It was with a silent sigh of resignation Nana made that offer, knowing it meant at least an additional hour before she would be able to go home, but also aware of the public image she was building with personal offers like these. This man, his eyes suddenly alight with a touch of shrewdness knowing he would get a chance at a personal recommendation by her, was far from the first person she had more or less handed out a job to in this fashion, nor would he be the last. As with most things, they were counting on this little bit of positive reputation she was garnering to help counter the instinctively negative and fearful response that was a natural reaction to their kind for most humans, although Nana did not like having to think like that.

“Why do you need to build your schools and dorms in Japanese cities anyway?” A husky young man asked as he raised his arm, sounding and appearing merely curious despite his words. “Why not stay on those islands of yours?”

“The Blackhorn Islands, while thankfully large enough to house our Japanese little ones for now, are hardly big enough or have the kind of infrastructure for someone to live their entire lives on.” Nana smiled at the boy, a bit thankful that the question was asked without malice as it often tended to. Curious children that wanted to understand was a large part of why she agreed to come to this show after all. “Despite what you might read in the papers the Blackhorn Islands are far from a country of their own, so that would just not be feasible. And besides, all our little ones are Japanese, conceived, born and bred, surely you would agree that they have a right to live on the mainland as well?”

The young man smiled back at her and nodded, either satisfied with the brief explanation or having just received the reply he had expected. An older man with dark eyes and greying hair leaned forward in one of the lounge chairs that was spread in a loose circle around the tiny dais where Nana and the hostess were seated, signifying the special guests present for the show. The contempt virtually poured out of him even before he spoke, making Nana suppress a shudder and eye him with hidden wariness.

“Rights, you say?” He smirked slightly, barely enough for the cameras to catch. “Isn’t it rather ironic to be talking about rights when it is true that you... Diclonius... have claimed not to be subject to Japanese law?” His eyes gleamed as he spoke, and Nana recalled that he was a particularly zealously religious politician whom was trying to make a name for himself recently by his anti-diclonius opinions. Sadly there were always people willing to listen to men like that and to the message of hate. “You cannot have rights without having obligations as well, nor can you have the rewards and benefits of civilized society without following its laws and regulations, any child knows that. Or are you saying that you Diclonius are above all that?”

His words caused a quiet chattering to break out on the benches behind him, with people both protesting his words and agreeing with him. The other special guests were louder in their arguments, and to Nana’s relief they were mostly arguing against him. Gathering herself quickly Nana gave the audience a wide and perfectly white smile while gesturing slightly for silence.

“You are of course referring to how Diclonius have been exempt from the law, and yes indeed also the rights, in Japan and many other countries around the world. In that you are partially right, and of course I agree with you, to have rights in a society you are also obliged to follow the rules of that society.” Nana put on the best innocently grateful look she could muster and matched her tone to that, mostly because she knew from experience with men like these that it would annoy him, but also because it would force him to work a bit for his venom. “You are very kind to bring that up, most people do not realize the problem, understandably, and it is something we are working on globally, Diclonius and humans alike.”

She turned an earnest enough-looking face towards the show hostess and the camera, continuing. “While most people have heard of my sister’s declaration that we, the Diclonius of Japan, are not subject to Japanese law, not everyone knows the whole story behind that statement. It is simply that, again globally, we have jointly decided that while we as a people are not recognised to have equal rights or have the protection of the law that others do, we will not be held accountable by those laws.” She gave a small smile, more of a quirk of the lips really, to emphasize her words. “If the part of the law which is meant to protect a person’s rights does not apply to a Diclonius child, then the part which is meant to restrict or punish should not either. It is quite understandable, yes?”

“It is much like the situation in the past, when the law was applied differently to people judging on their skin colour, their ethnic group or sexuality, as you can imagine.” Nana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pretended that she didn’t notice the dark glare from the man whose thunder she’d temporarily stolen. He’d probably get a second wind for his message of hate any moment now, but she was determined not to be goaded by him. “We have people, Diclonius and humans alike, all over the world right now that are actively petitioning both local government and the UN to oversee the laws, and amend the Human Rights to apply to Diclonius as well.” She smiled a little smile of honest gratitude out towards the audience and the cameras. “Progress is being made, thankfully, and if I may I would like to say that I am personally grateful to each and every person that take a stand, in whatever way, towards gaining equal rights to all of us as people.”

There was a moment where Nana’s focus went inward. To her side she could feel as much as see that hateful man sneer and open his mouth to deliver his poison, just as she could feel the audience still hanging onto her words. She calculated what to say next, and inside she regretted that it came down to doing just that, but this too was part of the responsibility she held for the future of her kind. It wasn’t pleasant and not what she would have wanted, but she had accepted it long ago. She took a deep breath and made sure the camera would catch her doing so.

“But I know that for many, what I just said amounts to so much abstract talk. It is hard to follow just how important these things are without an example to clarify things.” She gazed out seriously at audience and cameras alike. This was only a moderately popular TV-show, but her next few words were sure to rocket sections if not all of this particular episode onto other shows, like news broadcasts and debates, on all sorts of networks, and into online media and newspapers. “In the hopes of making things clearer to all of you, I am going to tell you something I have never spoken publicly about before.”

She saw the exact moment realization hit the talkshow hostess eyes, lighting them up with an ambitious hunger as the woman saw the opportunity before her. A few frantic gestures from her and every camera in the studio focused on Nana, while the hostess grabbed the chance to become the one that got inside information from one the Blackhorn sisters with both hands and a slightly maniacal smile. For a brief moment Nana idly wondered just how unhappy the woman must be with her current job.

“While it is fairly common knowledge that the Blackhorn name was given me by my sister upon being adopted into her family, it might surprise some to hear that Nana was not always my name.” Pink eyes reached out to everyone watching, no longer calculating or performing, but honest in remembered pain. “I was once simply nanaban, number seven, and that is where the name I now go by stems from. I was the seventh of the diclonius children subjected to experimental...”

-----------------------------

Nana’s account for her early years as a laboratory specimen, while actually brief and not going into any great and painfully gory detail, had indeed been the conversational bomb she had expected it to be. The show itself had dragged on longer than intended because of it, and with the additional time she had to spend, Nana did not manage to get out of there for a fairly long time. By the time she made it to her car she was exhausted and wanted little else than to nod off as the chauffeur drove her to the waiting helicopter.

She realized what was waiting for her the moment the car stopped at the platform, sensing the person inside before she ever even touched the doors to the helicopter – black, as everything else her sister made or bought – and certainly long before she saw the person sitting there waiting for her.

They smiled at each other but said nothing as their transportation lifted from the platform to set off for their island home. Nana had not expected Lucy to be there, but once she started giving out personal information on that random talkshow, well, she really should have she supposed.

As they left the city behind Lucy shook her head slightly, her smile turning a bit wry. “That certainly stirred things up, Nana.”

“Mm, it sure did.” She gave her sister a knowing look. “Just like you intended me to do, right?” Lucy had never said a word about it, but Nana had still figured out what the general idea was. Over the years they had come to work like that, intuitively understanding what the other’s plan was and what was needed from them, without words.

“You stirred up the hornet’s nest a few months ago with that blanket statement about the law, and let the world stew on that without a word of explanation. It was about time for me to step in and provide that explanation, for maximum effect... yes?”

It had taken some time, when they were younger and Nana new to her place in the organization, before Nana realized that Lucy’s blundering and heavy-handed intimidation was, at least sometimes, intentional, and with the purpose of creating an opening for Nana to step in and smooth things over. Lucy set herself up to be the dark one, the unreasonable, the intimidating and disliked one, so that Nana could be the voice of reason, the approachable and diplomatic one... the one that was liked. It was their working dynamic and it worked well for them indeed, but it made Nana sad at times as she knew that this dark portrayal mirrored Lucy’s views of herself. She had honestly forgiven Lucy years ago, but Lucy would probably never truly forgive herself.

“Of course.” Those pink eyes so similar to Nana’s own gazed upon Nana with affection and pride, until an expression of regret crossed them. “I didn’t expect you to go into such...” Lucy frowned and looked away briefly. “...personal detail. I thought you would speak of the forced euthanasia of diclonius infants, or the blatant stealing of them for lab experiments, not...” Lucy grimaced and let the words fade away. Nana knew what she meant.

“I know. And I did speak of those things as well, but...” It was Nana’s turn to make a face. “A survivor’s account, even a brief one, has a bit more weight.”

“You are so brave.” Lucy sighed. “I could not do what you did.”

They shared a silent look of understanding. No, the past weighed far too heavily on Lucy for her to make herself vulnerable that way, and dwelling on past crimes, past pain, was a good way to stir that murderous rage she kept firmly in check these days. By and large, Lucy still hated humanity, or at least most of it, and she always would.

“You certainly silenced that putrid little man but good.” Lucy teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t think he got another word in after that.”

“Oh please,” Nana made a silly face and waved it away. “as if that ignorant little man and his hate was all that important. He wasn’t the reason I spoke about the past. More importantly...” She pointed at what appeared to be an oversized cooler. “just what is that?”

That...” Lucy chuckled. “is what my wife ordered me to buy and bring for when your wife has cravings. As you can imagine, it is mostly ice-cream.”

“Goodness.” Nana laughed a little herself. “I can imagine. There are times I’m convinced our daughter will be born frozen solid from all that ice-cream.”

“Consider yourself fortunate that Mayu’s cravings are as normal as they are. Ai mostly ate french-fries in horrible combinations with things like pickles and chocolate sauce.” They both shuddered a little in remembrance. “I was convinced I was going to be the proud ‘father’ of a pink french-fry.”

“And yet my little niece is a happily perfect, healthy and beautiful little girl.” The wide smile that the thought of her adorable niece brought to Nana’s lips faded suddenly with another alarming thought. “Uh oh.”

“I was wondering when you’d realize.” Lucy smirked.

“Maybe she didn’t watch the show?” Nana tried, hopefully. “Yuka is probably busy preparing for Kohta to take care of the kids on his own before she’s supposed to come here to be with Mayu, she probably didn’t have the time to watch television.”

Lucy snorted. “You know full well she not only watched it, she recorded it as well. Yuka saves anything you appear in on television or in the papers.”

Indeed Yuka’s maternal behaviour towards Nana and Mayu didn’t stop when the two girls grew up, moved out and got married, not in the slightest. Yuka kept diligent tabs on both of her ‘daughters’, and was even scheduled to come stay with them as Mayu’s due date grew near, as support.

“I’d say that she’ll be contacting me sometime before tomorrow morning to demand that I arrange her transport.” Lucy grinned a bit wickedly, but patted Nana’s knee in a sympathetic gesture. “I suggest you get prepared before then, and I don’t mean just the guestroom.”

Nana feigned a pout at her sister, but it soon melted into a happy little smile mirrored by Lucy. They sat in comfortable silence the last tiny stretch of the way, simply smiling contentedly as they watched through the windows as the island that had been so many things to them in their lives, meant so many things to each of them, rapidly grew closer.

The island that now, because of the family that awaited them both there, was simply home.




Thursday, February 14, 2013

An Evening Visit

DOCTOR WHO-fanfic. It was supposed to be a quiet evening on Paternoster row, but when you're friends with a time-traveller, anything can happen.
(MADAM VASTRA/JENNY, with brief mention of the DOCTOR/RIVER SONG)




Read AN EVENING VISIT




Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and the other characters from Doctor Who all belong to BBC and perhaps some other people as well, unfortunately I have no clue. Once again thank you Moffat and co for creating the sword-slinging Silurian Detective and her lovely wife, please be kind enough to give us more of them? Like a series of their very own? ^_^




An Evening Visit
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




It started out as such an ordinary day on Paternoster row. Not even the Great Detective had cases all the time, so on this particular day Vastra, Jenny and Strax were enjoying some peaceful time at home, all gathered in front of Vastra’s favourite fireplace.

The most adventurous thing that had happened so far that day was that when Jenny entered the room she found Vastra fully engaged in her latest fashion attempt – wearing spectacles while she read. It was not that she needed them, oh no, Vastra had perfect Silurian vision, far superior to that of any mammal, she merely thought they might make her look more elegant while engaged in a book in front of the fire.

Vastra did not, however, have ears to hang the delicate golden contraption from.

After growing tired of watching her wife struggle with the spectacles, Jenny finally told Vastra that she was being a silly old lizard, removed the glasses and gave them to Strax. Before her wife could begin to pout and be upset, Jenny then sat in her lap and proceeded to tell her of all the many ways in which Vastra was elegant and beautiful all in her own self, and how she needed no enhancing trinkets to show that. This, interspersed with kisses and giggles, carried on for quite some time.

Strax paid it no mind, used to such behaviour from the two women by now, and instead inspected the glasses thoroughly before removing the lenses, twisting and reshaping the frame into something else before reattaching the lenses. With a satisfied nod he then lumbered up the stairs with his new creation, to continue his latest crafting project in his own room where he had a box of similarly reworked supplies – his loot, as Jenny called it. All manner of bits and bobs ended up there, to either be remade into simple – and often unfinished – weaponry, or into small figures and resources for his strategy board.

One never knew when they might need one, Strax figured, for unplanned declarations of war or conquest. In the meantime he practiced strategies on it, only to be better prepared when the day came, of course.

When she found out about it Jenny had taken to giving Strax little things for his strategy board every once in a while. It pleased him that she understood and approved of the need to be prepared. For the holiday of Crisis-mass Strax had even received from her an entire box of tiny tin soldiers, perfect for creating human armies with. And once she saw the painted wooden crocodile in a doll dress that Strax used to represent Vastra with, Jenny took great care and effort into making small representations of herself, Vastra and Strax to give him. The crocodile she threw into the fireplace and made Strax promise to never tell Vastra about.

It was into this tableau, with Strax tinkering away in his room and Vastra and Jenny snuggling on the couch, that the Tardis silently materialised.

Vastra and Jenny barely had the time turn to stare at the blue construction that suddenly appeared in the corner of the room, before the door was flung open and the Doctor hurled himself through to a multitude of whistling, hooting and jingling.

“Vastra! Jenny!” He cheered loudly, flinging his arms out and blowing once again on the strange contraption hung around his neck that hooted and whistled. “Congratulations!” He tossed the instrument over his shoulder and peered around at the room. “Am I early?”

“No matter!” Grinning wildly he scurried back and pulled out a trolley overloaded with things from inside the Tardis. “See, I brought supplies!”

He undid the strings to a pair of pink balloons and bounded over to Vastra, who was too stunned to do anything but stand there obediently as he placed one balloon in each of her hands, and then he hugged her.

“Always the dark horse, you old rogue!” He laughed and clasped her shoulder in camaraderie, and managed to fasten a shiny purple party hat, complete with tiny stars and tinsel, upon her head before stepping back. “Always doing the impossible.”

“And you...” He turned to Jenny and took her face in both hands as both his voice and his expression gentled. “Bless.” He murmured and kissed the top of her head.

As Jenny twitched slightly in confusion yet still did her best to put on a brave smile – and Vastra glared at the Doctor for taking liberties with her wife – the happy man spun about and placed a matching set of pink balloons into Jenny’s hands, and a sparkly pink hat on her head.

“There!” He declared, admiring his handiwork. “Now the two of you look the part, at least.” He pulled the trolley forward a bit, gesturing to it with pride. “I brought all the decorations needed, and party hats to go around. Oh, and wait ‘til you see the cake!” He waved back at the open Tardis door. “It is just the coolest.”

He pranced around until he could lay an arm around each of their shoulders before continuing with great enthusiasm. “I’ve gotten bubbly that really bubbles and fizzy drinks that really fizzle, and a pudding that dances the Macarena!” He released them and rubbed his hands. “It is rainbow chocolate and toffee flavoured.”

“Oh, almost forgot!” He dashed back to the cart and rummaged around in one of the boxes. “Aha! There.” He came back over to Jenny and, while hiding something in one hand, gently cupped one of hers with the other. “I got this for the lady of the hour.”

Into Jenny’s hand he placed a palm-sized green egg made from some rubbery material. It tinkled slightly as it was jostled, a tiny bell-like sound.

Jenny and Vastra both stared at it with round eyes. As the moment grew long and neither woman spoke or outwardly reacted, the Doctor’s wide grin began to falter, and he fidgeted.

“Well,” He tried and scratched his head. “it’s just a little toy. It wobbles. And there’s this... sound.”

“Um, Doctor?” Jenny asked meekly, still holding the little toy egg as if it was something fragile.

“There will be presents of course, real prezzies, a bit later.” His cheerfulness picked back up.

“Doctor?” Vastra tried instead.

“River is supposed to bring ‘em. In fact...” He frowned a little and looked around. “I thought she’d be here by now.”

“Doctor!”

He took a closer look at Jenny. “Say, you certainly slimmed up fast.” Appearing to realize that he might just have blundered into a sensitive subject he started to grimace and wave his hands about. “I mean, not that you were big before... at least not that big...”

“DOCTOR!”

“What! Yes! What?” He all but snapped to attention at Vastra’s bellow, but just as quickly relaxed his posture again, looking at them in confusion.

“Wha... why...” Vastra sighed and tried to gather herself. “What is going on here?”

He looked at them, tilted his head to the side and scratched at it again. “Your baby shower, of course. Or, hatchling shower. Or... egg shower, no that sounds bad – the celebration of your baby soon being in the world... thingy.”

The women in the room blinked slowly while the Doctor waited, unusually patient for him, in silence for them to speak.

“Doctor...” Jenny managed after a while, speaking slowly and carefully. “’ave you ‘it your ‘ead recently? What baby?”

“Yours and Vastra’s, of course.”

“But... you know that’s not possible.” Jenny looked at Vastra, bewildered. “’E knows that’s not possible, right?”

“Hey, it’s not like I had anything to do with it.” He protested mildly. “You two did your... humanly silurianly... thingy, and some time later, out pops little Eggwardine and I’m an uncle, and...”

Jenny mouthed ‘Eggwardine’ with a touch of horror, while Vastra snorted a bit in frustration.

“Doctor, you know that Jenny and I cannot have a child together.” She sounded a bit testy, but the slight, not all human, twitching movement she did with her head betrayed that the subject was one that pained her. “Silurians and humans are completely different species, for one.”

“Pishposh, oooh, nice word that, pishposh, I’ll have to use that more often...” He gave Vastra his widest grin. “Bottom line is, human-Silurian hybrids have been born before. Certainly not often, what with humans and Silurians usually being far too busy killing one another to get with the... baby-making thingies... but it has happened before.”

“And since when has the impossible ever stopped you before?” He gave her a double thumbs up.

These news stunned Vastra into silent immobility, so Jenny tried to take it from there. “What about the fact that we’re both... of the female persuasion?”

“Ha!” He waved that off like the answer was obvious. “I’m not surprised that doesn’t stop a Silurian female, and it certainly didn’t stop old Vastra here from getting you preggers, now did it?” He paused suddenly. “Hey wait a minute...”

“You know all this. We’ve talked about all of this before.” He blinked at them. “What time is this?”

“Honestly, sweetie...” A fourth voice broke in, exasperated. “I can’t let you out of my sight for a moment, can I?”

The Doctor winced and Jenny jumped as River Song walked in from somewhere to the side, dressed for a party. Only Vastra did not react as River strode up to the Doctor and grabbed him by the ear.

“Ow!” He made a sheepish face towards Vastra and Jenny. “Oops. Sorry girls.” River turned him around and gave him a slight push towards the trolley. “I’ll just be leaving now.”

River rolled her eyes a bit and smirked at Vastra and Jenny. “The only thing in creation that is truly impossible is that husband of mine.” She sighed a little, but it was an affectionate sound. “Right then, you two... remember to tell me about all this when the time comes, and to have me give him twenty minutes.”

“You’ll know when.” River added when Jenny was about to ask. “See you later then.”

With that she turned and marched into the Tardis while shouting. “I’ll drive this time!”

The blue door closed behind her, and all was silence for a moment. Then the door flung open again and the Doctor came rushing out.

“Sorry,” He looked apologetic as he took their balloons and little party hats away. “but you’ll get them right back! In, uhm, in a bit.”

Another mad dash into the Tardis, and this time the great blue box soundlessly shimmered out of existence.

Leaving Jenny and Vastra standing there, staring at a corner of the room in silence, until a tiny tinkle drew their attention. As one their eyes turned to the wobbly green egg in Jenny’s hand.

Jenny blushed, hard.

From Vastra there was a tiny noise, and then the tall, proud warrior simply fainted, sliding to the floor in a boneless heap while her wife yelped in surprise.

Strax stuck his head through the doorway to stare at them. “Did I miss anything?”


Monday, February 11, 2013

Elementary Errors

DOCTOR WHO-fanfic. Vastra does not approve of other people approaching her Jenny.
(MADAM VASTRA/JENNY)





Read ELEMENTARY ERRORS




Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and Strax all belong to whomever owns the rights to Doctor Who, of course. Not sure who that might be right now, but BBC for sure at least. Thank you Moffat and co for creating the sword-slinging Silurian Detective and her lovely wife, now please give them their own little mini-series... pretty please? :P
Sort of leads up to the “Vastra Investigates” minisode/prequel to the Doctor Who episode “The Snowmen”.
Also, I know that the real-life person Inspector Abberline is based on was married at this point in time, and that chances are that the Doctor Who Abberline is meant to be as well, but, well, it is a bit of creative license on my part. Hope nobody minds.





Elementary Errors
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




Upon their initial meeting, Vastra did not immediately think that Jenny Flint was beautiful. She learned rather quickly that Jenny was different from all the other pink, smelly and generally stupid apes that infested the Earth in the absence of her people, but that was all in regards to her inner qualities, such as Jenny’s intelligence or her bravery – and yes, perhaps her scent as well. Even from the very start, Jenny had smelled divine to Vastra.

The thought that Jenny was beautiful in appearance as well came later, much later, when Vastra was already head over heels in love and rather at a loss at what to do about it. And even then it seemed a natural thing that Jenny was beautiful beyond compare in Vastra’s eyes, and Vastra’s eyes only... what others thought of her incredible human’s appearance did not occur to Vastra at all.

As time passed she began to notice how some people reacted around Jenny, and drew – always later, much later, which was all in all probably a good thing – the conclusion that these mammals were attracted to her Jenny. Her Jenny.

Vastra didn’t quite like the idea. At least no-one dared to approach Jenny that she knew of.

And then... she was approached by that fool of an Inspector.

Inspector Frederick Abberline of Scotland Yard. A respectable man, as human males go, and friendly enough, moderately open-minded and accommodating towards Vastra and her unique situation, yes, but not the keenest mind around. Vastra wasn’t sure in how many more ways she could explain or spell it out to him that she was a Silurian, not merely some disfigured ape, and moreover that Jenny was her mate.

It was after a case solved, the other officers had left and Jenny had disappeared into the house while Vastra and Abberline were wrapping things up in the drawing room. Suddenly the man faltered, glanced towards the empty doorway, and leaned in towards Vastra with a peculiar look upon his face.

“Madam Vastra, about Miss Jenny...” Abberline began awkwardly, looking abashed yet strangely hopeful. Vastra did not understand his behaviour enough to be worried, merely found it slightly curious. “That is, if I may be so bold...”

“What is it, Inspector?” She urged mildly when the man’s speech tapered off again. What about her Jenny?

“Just Abberline now, ma’am, I’m not asking as a man of the law.” He hurried to assure her, for what reason she could not fathom. “About Miss Jenny, ma’am... is she... stepping out with some fellow?”

Confused, Vastra looked towards the door, trying to hear if Jenny was heading towards the front entrance for some reason, but she could distantly hear her rummaging around in the kitchen while singing to herself, so of course not. What did the Inspector mean?

“Ah.” He caught the confused look and tried again. “Does she have a gentleman friend?”

A gentleman friend? Vastra thought that was even stranger to ask. Her Jenny had friends, of course, although those from their own time era tended not to be that close, and then there was the fact that with a few exceptions, Jenny did not really befriend men. So a gentleman friend?

“No.” Was the logical answer, although Vastra supposed that one might consider the Doctor a gentleman of sorts. She wouldn’t want to have to explain that though, so it was better to keep it simple. “No, she does not. Why do you ask?”

Her first ‘no’ had sparked a beaming hopeful look in the man, a rather disturbing sight Vastra thought, and her question made him look bashful, wringing his hands together in front of him while looking at his feet.

“Oh, I realize that Miss Jenny is a fair bit younger than myself, ma’am. And that she is great bit more beautiful than a fellow like me deserves. But...” He glanced up at Vastra and straightened slightly before his eyes shifted away again. “I’m successful in my chosen profession, and I earn a good, honest living. I might not be a rich man, but she would want for nothing, with me, and I’d make an honest woman out of her, if it came to that.”

Frowning deeply, Vastra tried to decipher the man’s meaning. “Honest? Are you saying that my Jenny is somehow dishonest?” She did not notice herself that she had slipped right into her most intimidating mode, glaring at the blushing Inspector. “And what exactly is it that you feel that she should lack or want for now?”

“Ah, no, no.” Abberline backpedalled nervously. “I didn’t mean... I simply meant...” He wiped his hands on the sides of his jacket before straightening it, most likely without noticing it himself. “I meant to say, if Miss Jenny isn’t already seeing a fellow...” He caught Vastra’s look and continued even more nervously. “Fancying a lad...”

“Dating someone?” By the end he was almost desperate, but Vastra’s sudden shock must have been confirmation that she finally grasped what he was saying. “Then I might ask her if she would consider going out with me, perhaps on a stroll and a visit to the new coffeehouse next time I am off from work?”

For a moment Vastra felt as if all the air in the room, indeed all the air in the building, had compressed upon her head, pushing down with force. She had the uncomfortable feeling that her mouth was open and jaw working without a sound leaving her lips. It took a long moment for her to process the meaning of all this and what Inspector Abberline’s intentions were, but once she did she could feel the flames of rage igniting within.

“Or would Miss Jenny be more inclined to accompany me if I ask her out to something fancier?” The clueless man rattled on, not noticing how Vastra’s hand instinctively reached for her sword, only to twitch helplessly as the blade was not there. “I could...”

“She is married.” Vastra blurted, quite without either thought or grace.

“...that is...” The Inspector blinked, the confusion his this time around. “Pardon? What was that?”

“She is married.” Vastra repeated, a little more in control of herself now, but still very much wanting to rip Inspector Abberline limb from limb. “Wed.” She glared at Abberline. “Bespoused.”

“A-are you saying that she is...”

“That she is married.” As she spoke Vastra took a warning step forward, her narrowed eyes a danger that would have lesser men – or at least smarter men – quickly find reason to be elsewhere. “Yes.”

“My word.” Abberline frowned, clearly thinking hard. “Are you quite sure?”

“Indeed I am.” In Vastra’s opinion the Inspector did not look nearly alarmed or frightened enough. She took another step and let her voice take on a steely intensity that by rights should cut the male in half. “Married.

“Because I think-“

MARRIED!” Vastra bellowed in fury, suddenly looming over Abberline, so close that the man instinctively leaned back to get away.

Somewhere deep inside his psyche a small frightened mammal was covering before a roaring reptilian predator, and finally even Inspector Abberline was overtaken by the natural urge to run for his life. “Oh good lord,” He muttered under his breath as he scrambled to the door, all sense of dignity forgotten. “oh good lord!”

Vastra whipped around to glare after him as he left, fighting the urge to hiss and lash out with her venom. With heavy steps she followed out into the hallway, but the Inspector could be quite the fast little weasel when properly motivated.

With her emotions in turmoil and trembling from a surge of adrenaline yet robbed of the intended outlet, Vastra lumbered on towards the kitchen and the scent and warmth of her beloved.

“What ‘appened?” Jenny asked as she put a serving tray down on the counter and turned towards Vastra. “I ‘eard such a racket.”

Jenny’s eyes widened as she noticed the state her wife was in, but she didn’t get the chance to ask as Vastra lumbered across the floor, engulfed her wife in her arms, and kissed her ardently.

“Oh!” Jenny gasped after a long, intense moment, and then giggled as gloved hands wandered. “Really, darling? The kitchen?”

There came an answering giggle from the area of Jenny’s neck, before there was a brief nip, and then lips were quite eagerly otherwise occupied.

------------------

“...I fell in love.” Vastra finished her brief explanation, giving her lovely wife a besotted look. Jenny’s smile was small but pleased in response and there was a soft look in dark eyes that promised things, later, when they were alone.

“What, with the Turkish fellow?” Inspector Abberline asked with mild interest, breaking the moment and once again proving his enduring stupidity.

Vastra blinked and Jenny froze, neither quite sure how they ought to react. Vastra had after all only just finished explaining, once again, that Strax was in fact not any kind of ‘Turkish fellow’, so it was perhaps not so surprising that he had failed to notice that Vastra had very clearly wanted to kiss her wife just then.

“No.” Vastra managed finally, her voice somewhat strained. “Not with the Turkish fellow.” She wrapped an arm around her beloved and leaned in, proudly claiming her wife, while Jenny beamed.

For a moment Vastra felt sure he was not going to get it this time either, and wondered if she should simply kiss Jenny. She was after all still a bit sore with Abberline for his intention to proposition her mate. Then the unbelievable happened.

“Oh... good lord.” Inspector Abberline gasped and blinked. “Oh good lord.

Vastra, immensely pleased, couldn’t contain a burst of giggling laugher at that. Triumph at last.

She lowered her hand somewhat and gently urged her giggling wife away, delighted when Jenny got a little playfully demonstrative herself as they left.

Take that, you silly ape.