Title: Wicked Soldiers
Subject: Rios/Salem
Fandom: Army of Two
Warnings: Dark/violent themes, allusions to alcohol abuse.
Notes: What happens when I spend my weekend playing a new video game, I guess. If any of this is a little off, I apologize - I haven't finished the game yet. But it's kind of vastly AU from mine and Hakura's playing with it anyway. :P




( You're a kid with a bullet soul, are you ready to go? )

Title: What Became of the Likely Lads
Subject: General
Fandom: The Brothers Bloom
Warnings: Language, mature themes, allusions to child abuse.
Notes: A fanmix for a film I fell in love with, The Brothers Bloom. The mix deals more with the brothers than with Penelope, because I don't tend to see the film as being particularly romantic, or about being about Penelope and Bloom's relationship especially, but more as a film about the relationship between two brothers who want very different things out of life. As such, my focus tends to lie on Bloom and Stephen rather than Penelope.
A note that some of the quotes may be slightly off, as I was using the script as reference, and the script is not the same as the finished film, sooo... it happens.
For nakitamanomiko, because life sucks sometimes and I wanna make it better. ♥




( Liar, liar, you're such a great big liar, with the tallest tales that I have ever heard... )

Title: From the First Hello
Subject: Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Warnings: Slash, slightly disturbing themes. AU.
Notes: For nakitamanomiko. Some relief from the D: of 5x02. From our own canon, more or less, comes this. :3




( I'll tell you all of the things that you'll never forget... )

Title: The Perfect Crime
Subject: The Team
Fandom: Leverage
Warnings: Allusions to a threesome/OT3. Implied spoilers for some of the characters' backstories as far as we know them.
Notes: For nakitamanomiko, who has yet to murder me. Yay for Leverage! :)
Pairings included: Nate/Sophie, Elliot/Parker/Hardison, Elliot/Parker, Hardison/Parker, Elliot/Hardison.
If a song's not labeled for an individual character, it's for the team as a whole.



( [[ it is the moment you remember you're alive ]] )

Apparently I'm not immune to Christmas in July. That, or I need to stop listening to Vienna Teng's "The Atheist Christmas Carol". Random aw!Teamfic.

They come in on Christmas Eve because there's a serial killer in Delaware writing letters threatening mass murder on Christmas day, on the eve of the new year, and the authorities wanted their help catching him. They go in, of course; there is no such thing as a holiday from the BAU, and the winter holidays are in no way immune to the symbolism and drama that inspires drastic actions from the unsubs they haven't caught yet.

They leave behind family, call from out front of the airport to let family know not to bother picking them up, make excuses not to attend a dinner they weren't going to anyway. They're secretly glad no one expects them, that it's not their week to be responsible, that they aren't going home to anyone but a book or their own reflection in the mirror.

The office shows signs of JJ's presence and Garcia's exuberance, and no one can help smiling when they see that the briefing room has been decorated for the holiday, a squat plastic tree with tinsel sitting in the center of the table, gifts wrapped in bright metallic prints left on each desk. There are cookies, a little burnt but good, with frosting in red and green, and Morgan taunts Reid by pulling them away, keeping them from him.

They bring the cookies and the presents on the plane with them, tucked into carry-ons or held in hand like the most precious gifts, and as they discuss the case, Reid picks at the edge of the paper, not trying to open it, but not accustomed to its presence. Prentiss reminds him not to open it until tomorrow, and he smiles, says he knows.

In the end, they don't unwrap the gifts until they wrap up the case, until they're back in the office in the conference room around Garcia's tiny plastic tree (rescued from her apartment). JJ comes bearing food, and they try not to question where Morgan found an open liquor store on Christmas, and they have a holiday of their own.

They celebrate like family, and could not ask for a better one.

"You got your wish," he says to the empty room, the photograph by the side of the bed, crosses to it and his gaze slides away, unable to really look at it. He reaches out, touches the glass before he turns it down, facing the table, where it won't haunt him when he sleeps. If he sleeps. That's becoming less and less of a certainty lately, but he never looks like he's slept anyway, so it's not like anyone's going to notice him looking more like death warmed over in the department's crappy microwave.

He lies down and doesn't rest, closes his eyes and doesn't sleep. Sooner or later he has to, though. And sooner or later he has to live again. And sooner or later he has to go to work again. And...

He doesn't ever forget. Never forgets. Like torture, like trauma, the mind never forgets love, whether one has an "edge" on it or not. It tears him apart and he lets it, he rebuilds and he lets it make him better, he lets it make him good at his job, untouchable. "The elusive Doctor Reid," he's dubbed by one of the later members of the team, while they pretend not to notice how much of himself he keeps from them. They all hear it from Morgan sooner or later, the only other one still there, who didn't burn out or die or transfer, the story of his loss, his private tragedy that's public knowledge.

Two days of the year he takes off, holes up in the apartment and does nothing. Thinks, remembers. Does what he has to do. They don't ask, they know. He puts in for the time off months in advance, the same two days, every single year.

Eventually, Spencer gets his wish, too. And no one is left to survive him.


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


Set after 3x16: "Elephant's Memory".

It's a long while before Aaron speaks to him again. He understands, he's been spoken to about this already, but it still grates in a way, that he doesn't seem to get it, the hole the case tore in him. The memories too vivid for him to stand. But he allows the silence, holds it until they get home, back to Spencer's apartment where they've both been living for a while now, for long enough that it doesn't take question, no matter the situation.

They're barely in the door before Aaron surprises him with arms around his waist, pulling him close from behind. "You scared me out there today," he says, admits, quiet, holding. He's shocked quiet for a minute, can't move and doesn't know if he wants to, tries to relax some of the tension singing in his bones.

"I'm not sorry for what I did," Spencer says finally, the words feeling clumsy, not sounding right. Too quiet and of an awkward tenor. He swallows, adds after a moment, "I'm sorry I scared you." It's not enough, exactly, but it's the truth. That's all that's ever been asked of him. That's all that he can give.

Aaron stares at the far wall over Spencer's shoulder and sighs, doesn't let go because he wants to hear his heartbeat for a little while longer, know that he's alive. That the worst case scenario hadn't come true. That it had, somehow, improbably, turned out okay. When he speaks again it's low, and it takes him several breaths to remember that he needs the words, that Spencer needs to hear them. "I understand."


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


The hotel room was nice. By Bureau budgeting standards, it was palatial. In reality, it was a one-bedroom with a clean bathroom and comfortable sheets, but again - by Bureau budgeting standards. He'd foregone the usual attempt to air out the bedding and crawled under the blankets as soon as he'd managed to get out of his clothes, taking advantage of the warmth there that didn't exist outside. The heating was, he noticed, working perfectly.

Spencer Reid was beginning to believe that he was in the Twilight Zone.

They had been working all day on a particularly grisly series of murders, and by the time they had gotten the profile out and were able to come back and catch a few hours' sleep, it was nearing dawn, and he knew they would have to be awake in time for the press conference JJ had arranged at noon, hoping to draw out their killer. It was routine. This was how they operated. And if he was honest, it was not such a difficult case, except in the sense that all of their cases were difficult, but some moreso than others, and this was not one of the ones that was more difficult.

Still, having this nice a bed to sleep in for those few hours was definitely new and unusual.

"I'm not leaving," he announced from halfway under the covers, feeling more than he saw the pre-dawn light as it got cut off, the curtains drawn closed. He smiled, listening to footsteps.

Again, he felt rather than saw - as his eyes were closed, that would have been difficult - Aaron sit down on the other side of the bed, probably getting undressed so that he could join him without getting kicked out for being a thoroughly uncomfortable human pillow (the suit was not that comfortable, really). "I don't think we have a choice in the matter." He could hear the smile in his voice, though. Knew it too well.

"The press conference is outdoors, right?" Reid's voice edged on a whine, purposefully, much less serious than he pretended. "JJ will understand.." He had never liked the cold. They had more or less figured that out the hard way, because he got cold easily. Morgan had informed him that it was because he was too skinny, which had very nearly gotten a mitten thrown at him.

"The chief of police, unfortunately, will not," Aaron paused, mid-sentence, as he got into the bed himself, touching Spencer's arm to let him know that he was there, so that he could move closer, and continued, "understand why I'm not there."

Shifting so that he could lie more properly in Aaron's arms, which made the already-comfortable bed even more comfortable, Spencer wondered for what was at least the fifth time why it was that he had to become involved with the Special Agent in Charge for the BAU. It complicated things. Not that Aaron wasn't worth a little complication, of course... that was undeniable.

"I don't think that's fair. JJ's doing all the talking, anyway." It was a protest for protest's sake, one that was silenced fairly quickly by a kiss, and Spencer opened his eyes to see Aaron's smile when they parted. They both knew it was a joke, that Reid would never shrug off the job that easily. And it helped, in a way.

"It's our job," Aaron reminded him, though the smile didn't fade. Spencer grinned, returning the kiss - reciprocating it, and accused, "Killjoy."

Hardly.

Title: Hardcover Books and Long Nights
Author: Ry (curseangel / dreamsforlease)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Romance, angst, the usual.
Characters/Pairings: Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid. Hotch/Reid established pairing.
Summary: When the nights are too long and too dark, they find solace in each other and in the words of those who came before. Hotch/Reid established relationship fic, about five years post-canon.

( Number every page in silver, underline in magic marker... )

Random, because Garcia is both adorable and awesome.

Penelope Garcia had always been a holiday person. She loved holidays: Christmas, birthdays, Halloween, New Years. She dressed up. She had themed earrings and socks. She gave holiday greetings and celebrated. And since taking the job as Technical Analyst for the BAU, she had not spent one single holiday with her actual, blood-related family.

That was okay. Because she got a smile out of Hotchner when he was upset about missing his son's first actual trick-or-treating Halloween when she showed up in full costume. Because the presents she buys Reid for Christmas still show up from time to time, a sweater or a tie slightly off-sized but well-worn and kept. Because JJ loved the three-pair set of brightly colored butterfly earrings she got her for her birthday. Because Morgan put off a late briefing in the middle of a case to come down and make sure they both got their champagne and New Years' kiss.

She had a family who needed her more.

AU from mine and Hakura's storyline. I... really don't know where Morgan came into this, lol.

It's not as if they don't notice, but they don't make it known. It isn't obvious, because they don't want it to be - know it might make things considerably worse, given the circumstances and the people involved. And as long as nothing goes wrong... well, they're both for the better with it.

At any rate, when Hotchner returns from six months at a field office in Illinois, without any warning, just suddenly there... no one's particularly surprised when Spencer freezes up, stares. They're less surprised when his first actual action is to nearly stumble to him, wind his arms around him and hold, tight, hiding his expression against Aaron's lapels. Mouths, "I thought you weren't allowed back yet," low enough that Hotch is the only one who can hear.

They're right in the middle of the office, but neither of them seems to notice that, at least not at first, too involved in one another, in the distance and time that had been between them.

"Adorable," Morgan decides, mostly sarcastic, announcing it loud enough for them to hear.

He grins when Reid turns bright red and steps away. He won't admit it's a little good to see that while Spencer lets go, Hotch doesn't.

So he's a little protective. With Reid, Morgan had found, you kind of had to be.

Freaking Spock-muse will not leave me alone, lol.

"Tell me what you're thinking." It's almost a plea, for some transparency, something to tell him what's going on in that mind.

He shakes his head, just slightly, barely movement, goes to stand in front of the view screen, the empty hole in space where only a few stars had dared to take up residence yet in the wake of what had come before. "That would be... ill-advised," he says finally, choosing his words carefully, his tone more even than it had any right to be.

Kirk sighs at that, goes to stand behind the Vulcan, wrap his arms around his waist and try not to be disappointed when he doesn't relax, doesn't let this be comfort. "It was your home," he says, soft, not trying to open old wounds but trying to speed along the healing process, if it was even possible. "You have the right to be upset. It's okay to be sad."

"I know." For a moment Jim can almost feel Spock's resolve waver, falter, but it doesn't last. It rarely does.

"Spock." It's funny how his first officer's reticence, his reluctance to show or even let himself feel whatever had to be going on in there when the space his planet once occupied was right in front of him, when they were passing right by... hurt him. Like some strange transference, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Like it's giving, a cable losing its support and going slack, the Vulcan brings a hand up to cover Jim's.

His grip is tight enough to hurt, but the captain says nothing.