Five Things Meme

[zan]

In honor of my betters (technosage, just_katarin, and meinterrupted), I present you with the Five Things meme.

You post a topic, list, category, whatever, in my comments section. (examples: "Five songs that make Dean think of Sam", or "Five times Sam wanted to kiss Dean but didn't" or "Dick's five favorite memories of Bruce"). Then, in a separate post, I'll post the answers to your Top 5 ideas, according to me. Serious or fun!

Topics open: SPN, NCIS, SG-1, Atlantis, Heroes, BtVS, Anita Blake, Merry Gentry, Harry Dresden.

If there's something else you want that you think I might write in, let me know and I'll consider it.

Comments

[technosage.livejournal.com]

Five women from any of the other fandoms that Dean hit on, and how he fared.
or

Five costumes Claire will never wear.

Your choice!

[genaschuyler.livejournal.com]

Part One - Dean/Abby (NCIS)
“Dean,” he said, sliding up next to the girl at the bar. She turned to him and gave him a speculative look. He squirmed a bit when the look lasted longer than he was expecting it to, but finally she nodded.

“Abby.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure. A beer, I guess.”

He waved at the bartender and ordered their drinks.

“So, Abby. What do you do?”

“I work in Forensics at NCIS. That’s—“

“Naval Criminal Investigative Service, I know.” She raised an eyebrow and he just shrugged and smiled. He didn’t tell her that he had an ID stating that he was NCIS agent Anthony DiNozzo back in the car.

“How about you? It must be something in the government. Most normal people haven’t even heard of NCIS, let alone know what the initials stand for.”

“Not anything, really. My brother’s taking a break from college and we’re on an extended road trip.”

“What did you do, though?”

“Well, if I did anything, I suppose it was hunting.”

She leaned in closer, giving him a confused look.

“Hunting? Hunting what?”

He smiled slowly. “Things that go bump in the night.”

She leaned back and laughed at his supposed joke. He started to continue, but was interrupted by the ringing of a phone.

Abby murmured, “I’m sorry,” and picked the phone up. “Abby.”

A moment later, she winced and pulled the phone away from her ear. Even over the noise of the crowd, Dean could make out loud male shouts.

“Gibbs. Gibbs. Calm down. I’ll be right there.” She paused again and whatever was said caused to look up at Dean.

“I’m at a bar downtown. Why? Because I got off work three hours ago.” She paused again. “I told you. I’ll be right there.” She hung up the phone decisively and looked at Dean again. “Sorry. It’s my boss. He doesn’t keep standard office hours and when we’ve got a case, neither do the rest of us.”

“Hey, no problem,” he said, reaching a hand out to grip hers. He let the grip linger for what might have been and let go. “Hope he doesn’t work you too hard.”

She mumbled her goodbyes and, for another minute or so, Dean had the distinct feeling he was being watched. He grinned and took a slug of his beer, which was, of course, when his phone went off.

“Dean.”

“Hey, Dean. We’re ready.” It was Sam, of course.

“I’m on my way.” He threw a bill on the counter and headed toward the exit. Time to become Special Agent Tony DiNozzo.

I have no Supernatural icons. How is that?

[technosage.livejournal.com]

This is awesome. I love that there was an almost there, and the DiNozzo connection. YAY!

Be sure to post these out in the real world, yay? They're good!

[genaschuyler.livejournal.com]

Park Two - Dean/Merry (Merry Gentry)

“I hate leaving beautiful women sitting alone looking so sad,” Dean said, sitting down. “Dean.”

“Merry,” she said, giving a slight smile. “And I’m not alone.”

“No?” he replied, obviously not bothered. He looked around. “I don’t see anyone.”

Merry hid a smile and looked out at the dance floor. Galen was making a fool of himself, but that wasn’t new and Rhys looked like he was having the time of his life. She didn’t know where the rest of her men were, but that wasn’t new. She knew they were keeping an eye on her. Keeping her safe.

“Do you wanna dance?” he asked, nodding at the floor. She just shook her head, her eyes catching the lack of substance that was probably Doyle. He was the only one that she knew that seemed to suck color and light in and leave a hole where he should be.

“I can’t. I’m on a—“ She stopped herself, but he didn’t act as if anything was wrong with the statement.

“It’s fine. I’ve had the same thing happen to me. Far too often.” At this, she looked at him again and followed his gaze. He’s looking at the dance floor, too. Looking at something. Someone. Lover? Best friend?

“My brother,” he said in response to her unasked question. There was more – and less – in that word than Merry wanted to read into. He snorted at himself and looked back at her. “So. Let’s go for something cheesy. What’s a girl like you doing in a club like this?”

“Leaving.” It was only because she’d gotten used to the unexpected, booming voice that she didn’t jump. Oddly enough, neither did Dean.

“Doyle,” she said, looking up at him. “Time?”

“Yes, Princess.” She saw Dean’s eyes widen, but she ignored him, looking for everyone else.

“I hope this…gentleman…isn’t bothering you,” Frost said from behind Dean. There was a threat in that voice and, as she turned back to the steadily growing crowd of her men, she saw Dean’s spine stiffen.

“No of course not, Frost. He’s just been telling me about his brother.”

“Telling stories about me, again, Dean?” With those words, from a voice somewhere behind Rhys and Galen, Dean relaxed.

“Of course I am, Sammie. The only way I can get a girl is to ride on your coattails.”

There was a sudden menace in the air, but Dean just ignored it and reached for her hand. She gave it to him and grinned as his lips brushed her knuckles. He slid off the bench and gave her a bow. “Princess,” he said, laughter in his eyes. “I seem to be delaying your departure. Allow me to depart so that your…guards…can take better care of you than I could.”

It forced a laugh from her, but she composed her face quickly and gave him a regal nod. “I’m sure you’d do a fine job. Therefore, I put your brother in your charge.”

His eyes hardened and he gave a short nod just as a hand managed to worm its way through Galen and Nicca and grab Dean. She heard muttered exclamations coming from the pair of them as Sammie dragged Dean away. Something about fey and princesses and the Queen’s Darkness.

The last thing she saw before her attention turned back to the task at hand was Dean’s grin, just before he was pulled out of the club.

[technosage.livejournal.com]

This is very well done. I like your emo!Merry and growly Doyle and everyone threatening to give Dean the beatdown and Sammy to the rescue.

I *love* Sammy to the rescue. *grin*

[genaschuyler.livejournal.com]

It was the sound of wood hitting wood that caught his attention. Following the sound back to its source, he saw a man and a woman fighting. Neither looked very upset, so Dean assumed it was practice of some sort. He leaned up against a tree and set about examining the style of the two opponents. The man was good, but there was a certain stiffness of movement that said that he either hadn’t been doing that particular form of fighting long, or he was out of practice. But the woman… She was simply amazing; she was all fluid movement and grace.

“Colonel Sheppard,” she said after giving him a particularly nasty whack on the side of the arm. “You have not been practicing.”

“It’s John,” the man hissed, almost too quietly for Dean to hear. A look that was almost embarrassment showed for a moment on her face and she nodded.

Dean watched them spar for a few more minutes before finally clearing his throat to catch their attention.

Whack, whack, whack, and the one that had called himself John was on the ground. The woman reached a hand down and helped him stand up. There was a rueful grin on his face.

“You’re right. I haven’t been practicing.” The two clasped shoulders and touched their foreheads together. Then, they finally turned his way, acknowledging his presence.

“Mind if I try?” he asked, giving them both an easy grin.

The two exchanged a look and the woman went to hold out her set of sticks.

“Actually, I’d like to go against you.”

There was a significant pause and another look was exchanged. Finally, John held out his sticks and collapsed against the nearest tree.

“I am Teyla,” she said and the words spoke of something not American. There was an accent that Dean couldn’t quite identify, but knew it for something exotic.

“Dean,” he said, testing the weight of the sticks. They were light, but sturdy, and they rested nicely in his palm. “Ready whenever you are,” he finally said once he was done getting comfortable with the weapons.

She came at him suddenly, but he was expecting that. She’d want to test him, since he’d gone for the master first rather than the student. He parried them and took a step back. He didn’t think he’d be able to lure her with a simplistic feint, so he instead used the move to study her own reactions. He wanted to know what style of fighting she was using so that he could come up with a counter for it.

Whack, whack, whack. After a while, he realized that waiting wasn’t getting him anywhere. She didn’t seem to have any unique style that he could classify. In fact, many of the moves she used didn’t come from any of the styles that he knew. So, he wouldn’t use a style either. He shut down the part of his mind that was analyzing the fight and instead acted and reacted on instinct.

Parry, attack, parry, back, forward. On and on they went. It was almost a dance. It was more than a dance; more like sex. It certainly left him breathing hard and the tickle of sweat rolling down his back made him wish he’d taken off his shirt before starting the fight. And abruptly she was attacking – she must have been more tired than she looked to try such a foolish move – and his arms were already there, ready to parry the blow. But she wasn’t there. It wasn’t until he’d hit the ground, all the air knocked out of him, that he realized the simple truth. She’d used his move against him. The simplistic feint he’d begun the battle with had finished it to her advantage.

“Ouch,” he said mildly and took her hand when offered. She pulled him to his feet quickly.

“You fight well.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had experience.”

Her eyes searched his for what seemed like an eternity. He returned the favor, but couldn’t make sense of what was there. Pain. Joy. But above everything, a sense of otherness. She had the oddest sense of alien about her and Dean couldn’t figure it out. As soon as it had begun, the look was over and the woman – Teyla, Dean reminded himself – smiled at him. A smile both full of promise and the knowledge that there was no time for that promise to be fulfilled. He should know that look. He’d seen it in the mirror often enough.

[genaschuyler.livejournal.com]

He’d taken a step back to go return the sticks when he felt her hands on his shoulders. It caught him by surprise until he remembered the odd kind of bow that she’d shared with John earlier. Giving a mental shrug, he dropped the sticks and put his hands on her shoulders and leaned his head in to meet hers. His eyes had closed, so it caught him off guard when he felt a gentle brush of lips across his own.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said, backing away. He watched her for a minute and then grinned and grabbed the sticks.

“More than a pleasure,” he replied and gave her a broad wink before returning the sticks to John who was shaking his head at both of them.

“I’ll see you around,” he said to Teyla. He felt John stirring beside him to reply, but Teyla merely nodded her head. He gave her another wink before heading off in the direction of the library. Maybe he’d be able to make Sam bring work home tonight. It wasn’t until he walked in the front door and saw the scowl from the librarian that he realized that he’d been whistling the entire walk.

[technosage.livejournal.com]

I like this. I really like your Teyla, and the way she interacts with Dean. It seems quite fitting.

Strangely, I only got the one response, so I thought it cut off at "often enough" and I really liked that ending. I think I might like it better than the one you have. Which is also good, just, y'know. ;)

Anyway, I dig this. Good job!