Driving is like meditation for Sarah Connor. Ellison doesn’t drive with her; he’s holed up in a safe house with young Savannah, making plans, making philosophies. He has the Bible, and she has the road. Sparse and lovely look at Sarah, who keeps on keeping on after the series finale.
Steve scrubs a hand back through his hair, leans into his desk. He's exhausted, because it's exhausting trying to investigate a case when he's sleeping with the man he's supposed to be hunting down. Bucky is there in an instant, so light on his feet that Steve doesn't know he's next to him until Bucky's touching his arm, up to his neck, finding pressure points and dipping his fingers into them, massaging until Steve is loose with his touch. "Bucky," Steve mumbles, feels like it's all he can say, a mantra that he can't bear to stop repeating. He's not supposed to know Bucky's name; he's not supposed to know anything about him. Except he knows everything about him. Non-powered AU where Steve joins the NYPD when Bucky ships out. And then Bucky comes back and he's... different. It's short but it made me say Oh, Bucky and Oh, Steve a lot. I wish it were longer.
"You are my brother and I love you," says Michelle, "no matter who you are or what you do." Jack's sixteen, now, and he knows what he is and what he cannot be, says, "It must be nice to think that you have that luxury, sister." Sharp, bitter look at Jack's life.
Long, satisfying, if a little overly repetitive (and full of unnecessary emotional exposition) story that takes what Leonard and the others did to Sheldon's research seriously, as a cruel "joke" that had serious consequences, and melds that with a lovely, believable burgeoning Penny/Sheldon romance.
"Barton, we're leaving," says Natasha, and pulls him, unresisting out into the corridor, where she says, her eyes narrowed, "I don't need you to fight my battles for me. I didn't ask you to." "You could be dead," he says, not meeting her eyes, and she pulls his chin back up, says, "If he kills me, I give you permission. Otherwise, stop trying to be the hero I do not want or require, Agent Barton." "Oh, I think you require a few things," Clint says, a smirk spreading across his face, and Natasha cocks her head, says, "I assure you, Barton, in that department, I am more than adequately equipped." "Fuck," says Clint, his eyes widening, and Natasha says, "No, Barton. Keep trying." Really lovely Natasha/Clint set between IM2 and the Avengers movie.
Loki falls to earth and tries to make amends for the damage he's done. This is really lovely. I like how Loki's sense of melancholy and regret is threaded through it, even as he makes friends with Jane and Erik and Darcy.
“You don’t believe me,” she said and opened the door. “You’re drunk,” he said. Then again, to make it stick: “You’re drunk.” The curve of her sneer was heartbreakingly familiar. “Loki Silvertongue who thinks everyone a liar like him,” she spat. “Sif-“ he began, though he did not know what he would say. It didn’t matter because she disappeared into her room. “Don’t worry,” her voice floated back. “In the morning, I won’t believe me either.” The door laid open. Loki turned away and did not follow. mmm...deliciously palpable mutual pining.
What happened on the beach was a brutal illustration of the world outside his private hopes and wishes, both for human and mutant-kind. If anyone thinks for even a moment that Charles could accept that and move on - if anyone knows him well enough to know - Raven must. She's always been quicker to understand these shifts than him. When she left, it was to honour her own conviction, but she also left with the certainty that they would fight alongside each other soon enough. After all, it was she who had taught him that to be born with advantages others don't have and to do nothing positive with it would be cowardly in the extreme. Charles will not accept the world as it is, any more than Erik ever could. As it is now, the fragile shell of his patience will crack very soon, and nobody, not even Erik, would enjoy what comes after that. No, better that his efforts to make the world palatable proceed with some restraint. Charles is not the pacifist Erik thinks he is. Sharp look at Charles and the long game he's playing re: mutant rights. Author says it's the first in a series, but I think it stands alone perfectly well.
Getting turned on at night is unusual for Abed, since he usually takes care of things in his morning shower (he hates being sticky, and wouldn't want to sleep that way), but he puts it down to his own natural curiosity and sex drive. He's never seen another guy do it, never talked about it with anyone. His dad's sex talks typically contained neither talking nor any information about sex. So it's natural, he supposes, that he would be . . . interested. And Troy is interesting; Troy is one of the most interesting people Abed knows. Abed listens while Troy jerks off in the bottom bunk. Really good Abed voice.
Annie, Troy, and Abed throw themselves a housewarming with a blanket fort, pie, and awesome threesome sex. This is adorable and hot and very in character. ♥
(It's only because Aaron Hotchner is a very good profiler indeed, that he can tell the man (early to mid thirties, medium build, dark hair, wearing corrective lenses) is: a) nervous (shifting of the weight on the balls of his feet, glancing around the room in the moments between staring at Aaron); b) not local (European law enforcement badge hanging from the man's belt) (on second glance, the badge is from the British Auror's department, and Aaron slows his step because. Really. Today?); and c) a wizard. Even if the Auror's badge hadn't given it away, the clothing would. Not quite out of fashion, just different enough, and with materials that no normal person would ever wear. At no time in his life have British wizards ever meant anything good to Aaron.) Hotch is a squib, but Jack can do magic. Shot through with melancholy.
Damian reflected that given that he had spent his life jetting between exotic locations – having the best of everything – it was strange that Steph's apartment (which was small and filled with flat-pack furniture) should seem like a refuge. It was so ordinary... so civilian. Even Steph herself was incredibly ordinary – a healthy, all-american girl with cornflower blue eyes and thick blonde hair, who talked too much. There was no rational reason that he should feel comforted by her presence or at home on her couch. After sleeping with half his team (clearly following in Dick's footsteps), Damian finally ends up where he wants to be, with Steph. Nicely done.
As Tim’s best friend and partner, Conner had an unspoken list of responsibilities. It was a role that he took happily and willingly, even though it wasn’t one that he got to play outside of their apartment. Tim wasn’t comfortable with anyone knowing that they were a hell of a lot more than just roommates, and Conner understood—-he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of the media blowout that would follow Red Robin and Supes flying out of the closet. Touches were reserved for the most private section of their private lives, and that was just the way it was. Even with masks on, they had an image to uphold. But Conner did his best to be a good boyfriend, and that meant carefully handling Tim’s semi-annual breakdowns. Adorable Tim/Kon goodness.
I Know You Know (But You're Not Telling the Truth) by
"Mr. Spencer—" "Call me Shawn. I think it would be awkward for us to remain formal considering we almost entered into an extortion agreement just now." "Shawn," Reid said, testing it out. "Okay. You can call me Spencer then, I guess." Shawn made a face. "Yeeeeeah, that's kind of weird too, considering it's my last name. It kind of has a," he waved his hands between them, "sort of estranged cousin feel to it." hee! Reid calls Shawn on not being a psychic. Nice little scene. Wish it had been longer.
"Jonathan Benjamin," Nathan all but roared, in that same thunderous voice Samuels used when he got really pissed, "I am here on the Lord God's orders, and you will listen." Jack swallowed dryly, intimidated. It was pointless to play games when talking to a prophet of the Lord, so Jack said honestly, "I just don't see why He'd bother with me, that's all. I'm not cut out to be one of His men; my father reminds me of that at least once a day." He thought of the righteous anger in Samuels's voice: You are not the one he wants. Certainly, if Jack hadn't been sure at the time whom God wanted, he had no such doubts now. "I'm no saint, you know, and I'm definitely not David Shepherd." "You may not be David, and you may have betrayed Silas, Jonathan, but the king betrayed the Lord; you are more in His favor than your father ever will be again. The Lord has a plan for you; all He needs is for you to stop struggling against it and open your eyes. There is nothing in David's destiny you should envy." Jack could imagine the hardships Shepherd would face: how easily the damned Boy Scout would sail past them; and how impossible they would be to anyone lacking David's anointment. "No, I don't suppose there is," he admitted. Jack grows up during his imprisonment and finds a place at David's side.
Jack wants to know this David before the crown leaves its inevitable mark. He's going to love that marked David, and until the second he thinks it, Jack hadn't really thought of this in terms of love. Though, to be fair, it's not as if it's a familiar sort of thought. It's a sure one, though, one that fills him with an excitement he can't recall feeling. The sort of first-taste high you chase but can never again catch. He's going to love that David. But this one, he thinks as he smiles, this one Jack owes it to himself to know. Deliciously tense and hot first kiss for Jack and David.
Really good epilogue to the series finale, following Jack, Michelle, and David as they start off in their new directions and begin learning how to be the people they're becoming.
Loki and Natasha become blood brothers. Natasha's not sure how she feels about this. Adorable. "Well, we're brothers now." "Please go away," Natasha said. "Can't." Loki was starting to laugh, the bastard. "We shared blood. I'm getting flashes of memory back - we didn't leave anything out. You and I, Natasha Romanov, are blood brothers." Natasha sat on the couch next to him. "Go to hell," she said, with a little less heat than she would usually have managed. "I have too many boobs to be anyone's brother." Loki laughed aloud at that. "And you think I'm the most masculine person in Asgard? No, there's no such thing as blood sisters. You know, I was just thinking I needed a new brother. The one I've got is so terrible."
"You love me," he said. It was a question. "Is it so strange?" she asked. "It is to me," said Loki. Sif said, "It should not be so," and she reached for him. Lovely.
Yesterday afternoon, before Sophie had arrived, she’d wanted to abandon the mission she’d been given entirely- vanish somewhere into the heart of the campus, take up classes, be given a certificate stamped with her name and accomplishments and walk along in the footsteps of those students walking across the courtyard in front of her eyes. Perhaps her mother would have wanted that for her. Not for the first time, she wondered if her mother had gone to school, what she might have studied, if she had dreamed of seeing her own daughter graduate. She couldn’t know. She wished she could. For years and years she’d done what was expected of her; what was she supposed to do when nobody expected anything? Hanna goes looking for answers after the movie and meets up with Sophie again. Lovely.
He trained as an assassin. He was, they said, a natural. They gave him a knife, a pistol, and a mask as well as a dumb yellow-haired pretty boy partner. They didn't need to say, Kill. Kill 'em all. Be sneaky, and mean, and inscrutable. Kill 'em. That much was understood. AU where Bucky is Nisei. Brilliant and clear-eyed and painful. Highly recommended.
Peter’s always fancied himself as a smooth-talking ladies man with a ‘Sweetheart’ thrown in here or there to either charm or provoke, depending on his target, but he’s starting to suspect Olivia prefers more of a James Garner over his Humphrey Bogart act. Mmm...shaving...
"Hey, come on. You know I won't let you fall." "Heh, yeah." Bucky leans into his hand, then away to set the bottle down by the side of Steve's bed. After, he sidles unsteadily closer to settle over Steve's lap, close and warm with the dozy, familiar smell of alcohol on his breath. "I know you won't." Oh my heart. Bucky doesn't like heights. Steve promises to take care of him. And then what happens in the movie happens. Oh, Bucky. Oh, Steve... *sniffle*
