Jack Harkness runs into a future version of himself. Of course they have sex.
I am happy to say this is my 200th fic!
200 fics, 316320 words. Holy crap. I have a problem. A ficcy problem. (and it’s not quite a year since I started consistently with Sherlock)
Anyway, it feels appropriate that this a superwood fic, written for willow555 and jazzforthecaptain
Immortal Wings – No matter what stupid things Jack does, it seems Castiel will always be there to pick him up.
teaser below the cut
Jack leaned wearily against Castiel, made stronger by the angel at his back. They were still fighting, though Jack was down to a single knife. Of course he’d gotten involved in a rebellion, of course he’d gotten in over his head. And of course Castiel had shown up just as he was about to get his ass thoroughly kicked.
Jack swung, taking down another foe. “My ship is off to the right, if we can get to it.”
Castiel nodded, not condemning Jack’s choice, for which he was grateful. Castiel had pulled his ass out of the fire enough times by now, Jack was sometimes surprised he kept coming back. But whenever he truly needed him, it seemed that Castiel was there. Pushing away from the angel, Jack took down three more in quick succession, grunting in pain as one of them sliced his side.
Then Castiel was there again, catching him. “Close your eyes,” he ordered and Jack obeyed without question. He could feel himself bleeding out fast as the flash of Castiel’s power faded behind his eyelids. Invisible wings sheltered him as Castiel picked him up like a child and carried him to the ship. Jack died as they reached the door.
He gasped awake a few moments later, groaning as his body finished knitting itself together. Castiel was staring at the controls, puzzled. Jack chuckled and heaved himself out of the bunk. “You’re an angel, but you don’t know how to fly.”
I actually wrote a Janto fic, for type40consultingdetective:
Light in the Dark – Jack and Ianto are trapped after an alien gives them the slip.
teaser below the cut
Jack watched Ianto check the lock for the fourth time. “We’re stuck. They’ll notice we’re missing in the morning when there isn’t any coffee.”
Ianto sighed and rolled his eyes. Jack was making himself comfortable against the wall. The container wasn’t that big, but the alien they’d been chasing had managed to lure them inside and lock the door. Jack turned his torch on his watch. “We’ve got a few hours.”
Annoyed, Ianto sat against the opposite wall and shut off his own light. No point in wasting battery. Jack shut off his and a heavy darkness settled over them. Ianto shifted, uncomfortable. And a bit nervous.
“I never liked pitch blackness either,” said Jack, turning his torch back on and setting it between them. “Means bad things in space.”
Ianto made a noise, but offered no other comment. For once, Jack seemed disinclined to speak further, watching the torch between them.
This time it was Ianto who moved first, shifting around until he was next to Jack, touching his hand. Jack put an arm around Ianto and pulled him against his chest. Ianto huffed a bit at the gesture, but slowly relaxed in Jack’s arms.
There was silence for a little while longer. Ianto was just starting to nod off when he felt Jack kiss the side of his neck. “Jack…”
Folks wanted a second chapter of One Starry Night, so it’s up on AO3.
Whew, finished my next crossdressing fic:
Sometimes, Charities Can Be Such a Drag – John and Greg dress in drag for a charity auction. Of course Sherlock is John’s highest bidder.
teaser below the cut
“Why the hell am I doing this again?” John sucked in his stomach while Greg zipped up the back of his dress.
“Because you want to help support the charity and Anderson wouldn’t.” Greg stepped back and smiled at John. “You should wear heels more often, you’ve got the calves for it.”
John turned to glare at Greg, but stopped. The inspector was standing in a curly brunette wig, red halter top and a tight leather skirt that immediately would have made John adjust himself if he wasn’t already tucked.
Greg caught him staring and took a step back, drawing John’s attention to sexy heeled boots. “Been a while, but glad to see I still got it.”
“I would say you do,” John smoothed his own dress and moved to the mirror, smiling at the sight of himself in the short blond wig and red dress. He’d neglected to tell Greg he’d already owned these things because of an earlier case.
“Come on then, don’t want to be late,” Greg pulled on a leather jacket that completed his ensemble. John shook his head and followed him out.
Sunday Six
I was looking at pics of actors in drag yesterday and I had a mighty need to write Greg Lestrade in drag, so here’s a teaser:
“You should wear heels more often, you’ve got the calves for it.”
John turned to glare at Greg but stopped. The inspector was standing in a curly brunette wig, red halter top and a tight leather skirt that immediately made John want to adjust himself if he wasn’t already tucked.
Greg caught him staring and took a step back, drawing John’s attention to sexy heeled boots. “Been a while, but glad to see I still got it.”
For the johnwantsit 1k follower thing:
One Starry Night – Werewolf John Watson has an encounter with vampire Sherlock as he goes into heat.
teaser below the cut
John limped his way across the open field. His heat was coming on, but there was nothing he could do. The wound in his shoulder burned in the moonlight; a silver bullet had nearly taken his life. He’d survived, but could no longer change. A werewolf who couldn’t change was useless to the pack, so he’d been cast out. Six months ago now. He slept when he could, always moving. He didn’t have a pack, or a home. He hardly knew what he was anymore.
A strange scent came across the air. Vampire. He stopped and growled, wishing he had a weapon or could bring out his claws. Instead, he drew himself up as much as he could. “Show yourself,” he snarled.
The vampire seemed to come from thin air, standing tall and pale in the moonlight. Alpha. The pale eyes seemed to take in everything about John at a glance. John was wearing tattered pants, but he might as well be naked. He took a step back, hair standing up on the back of his neck.
“Werewolf,” pronounced the stranger. “But you cannot change, due to the wound on your shoulder.” He started pacing around John. “Omega. Going into heat, but also you have been cast out of your pack.”
Wrote a fic for dvancecinco’s birthday
Cherries – Mycroft surprises Greg on his birthday.
teaser below the cut
Greg slammed his car door closed. Another late night. They’d made some effort to acknowledge his birthday at the Yard, but they’d been called out as soon as the donuts were opened. It was all fine. Another bad one off the streets, but it made for a long day. He dragged himself tiredly up the walk to his flat.
Mycroft had told Greg he was gone all week, so when he unlocked the door he expected an empty flat. Instead a mouthwatering smell came from the kitchen.
“I thought you had a conference,” he said, hanging up his coat.
“It is your birthday,” said Mycroft, stepping out of the kitchen. His suit coat was off and sleeves rolled up, a tasteful apron protecting his clothes.
“I had no idea you could cook.” Greg stepped over and kissed him gently.
“I can when the occasion requires. I made your favorite. Please, have a seat.” He had his tiny long-suffering smile on. It made Greg wonder how long he’d been planning this.
Hey look I managed a johnlock pwp:
Therfore I am Safe – When Sherlock wakes from nightmares, John is there to comfort him.
teaser below the cut
John woke to a soft noise. He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. It took him another moment to realize it was Sherlock, curled up against the side of the bed, whimpering softly.
Sitting up carefully, John regarded his lover. They had been through a lot in the past year, really the last four or so. But they’d somehow landed together and here they were. Faded scars were just visible through the thin fabric of Sherlock’s shirt. He knew bit and pieces of what had happened, but not everything. And of course there were the nightmares.
“Sherlock,” he called quietly, knowing to move slowly. The first time Sherlock had tried waking him from his own nightmare he’d punched him in the face.
The man curled up tighter. John carefully got up from the other side of the bed. Five minutes later he was setting a fragrant cup of tea on Sherlock’s end table, watching him.
Slowly Sherlock started to wake up and uncurl, reaching for the cup. John walked around the bed and got back in, silently rubbing his back while he drank it.