plums in the icebox *are* delicious

[artyartie]

My muse is feeling a bit stagnant as of late, so I'm doing another round of comment fic! Comment with an icon/pairing/idea as a prompt, and I'll churn out your very own comment ficlet in a day or two. Fandoms I'm familiar enough to write include: Rome, HP, CCS, Stargate, Master and Commander (movie!verse or up to 10 on the books), Horatio Hornblower (more familiarity with the movies than the books), BSG (up to Season 1), Spooks (up to Season 2), the Bartimaeus Trilogy, and many more things that aren't popping to mind now. So comment away and if I'm not familiar enough with the fandom I'll let you know!

Comments

[aervir.livejournal.com]

May I use this Hornblower icon of mine as a prompt?

Horatio/Archie, with a quote from the lyrics of Oysterband's "Sail On By": "on empty sands we'll walk together arm in arm"

[artyartie.livejournal.com]

That's a great icon and quote! Of course you can use it. :) I'll be writing more tomorrow and Friday, but don't fear, the fic will be here soon.

[tootsiemuppet.livejournal.com]

*falls over her own feet in her rush to get in*



:D Yay random nudity!

[spacemonkey-27.livejournal.com]

I have to do it...Brutus/Antony/Cicero. Use at your own discretion. :D

[ainsley.livejournal.com]

As you were the one who pointed it out to me...Sam/Teal'c.

[artyartie.livejournal.com]

Here you go! This is set during 'Unending,' and another important player, of sorts, makes an appearance.

***

"Careful with her, Teal'c."

"Her? Would not your instrument properly be an 'it'?"

Sam saw the quirk at the corner of Teal'c's lips, the laughter in the lift of his eyebrows that very few could see. So little that passed between them needed to be spoken, though she delighted in each syllable.

"I've always named things. Bikes, lab equipment - Walter and I started naming the MALPs when things got slow, not that they were for long-" Sam smiled and shook her head at Teal'c, watching him wrap himself around the cello with an expert's grace. "Anyway, I decided to name her Eos. It isn't too cheesy, is it?"

"It is not cheesy at all, Samantha Carter." Teal'c hardly needed her help in tuning the sometimes tempermental instrument; his fingers flew between the pegs and the fingerboard just as sure and smooth as the bow. He was an ideal student, an eager and quick learner, and truth be told, with just her and Eos, it was more than a bit lonely on occasion. "I believe I am ready to try the Boccherini again, however-"

"What is it? I mean, in a few months you're not even going to need these lessons-"

"I am very flattered by your comment, but my vibrato is somewhat shaky, though not in the correct way." He frowned at the fingerboard and then at his fingers, as if not sure which to blame. But the frown was nowhere to be seen when he looked up. "But I enjoy our time together very much, and see no reason to stop, no matter how far I progress."

Sam felt a rush of color to her cheeks at Teal'c's words, which would give her no reason to blush, coming from any other man. "It's been- it's been great having you here. We spend too much time on our own."

"Indeed," was his only reply, but it was spoken with such a soft, gentle tone he needed no other words.

"But that vibrato, that's really easy to fix. It'll just be easier - can you scoot forward on the chair?" Sam gathered her hair, just beginning to go silver, and pushed it off her shoulders, and perched on the back of the chair. She felt like ivy, clinging to a sturdy tree, her willowy limbs cradled around Teal'c. Her fingers interlaced with his, her chin just brushing his shoulder.

"Now, just relax your left arm completely, that's it." The tension melted out of him, and Sam felt it drain away from her, like tiny rivulets. "Your elbow should feel like it's floating, and your fingers, they're just right." Sam lifted her fingers from his, as if carried by that invisible stream, even as the current tugged at her right arm, bringing it to rest on his waist. "Start with the note you think is most beautiful and the rest just sort of comes from there."

The note that sounded from the cello rippled through Sam, and a moment she was the water, she was the sound borne through so many particles she couldn't see but she could feel them, each one singing in her body to the tune of that one glorious note. Only once it stopped did Sam realize just how tightly both arms had wrapped around Teal'c's waist.

"Was that satisfactory, Samantha Carter?" Teal'c turned, and Sam could swear she saw a glint of hopeful expectation in his eyes.

"Teal'c, that was perfect! It was so beautiful, I couldn't begin to-" And then Teal'c was kissing her, despite the awkward angle of their lips, and Sam leaned forward, floating as if on water, and another sort of music all together resonated in every atom, every quark in her body. They pulled apart, reluctantly, for air, but Sam had to finish her words, which seemed more necessary than ever. "I couldn't begin to tell you."

"Nor could I," he said, fingering her hair as delicately as any string, pressing his lips to her forehead. "But perhaps you did not need to say anything at all."

[ainsley.livejournal.com]

The cello! I adore the cello.

And that's so exactly how I learned vibrato--just let it happen. Most of the best things come about that way.

Dankeschön.

[cal-reflector.livejournal.com]

hmmm...

Octavian and his sister (evil, I know) or
Touya and Nakuru (worse).

[artyartie.livejournal.com]

Er, your ficlet turned out to be over 900 words long! Here's the link

http://artyartie.livejournal.com/110346.html (http://artyartie.livejournal.com/110346.html)

[otahyoni.livejournal.com]

Something original. Involving (inspired by your entry subject) plums, an apology, and record temperature highs.

[artyartie.livejournal.com]

"They're not red."

"No, but-" The words hesitate on his tongue, afraid of turning into an apology he shouldn't have to give. It's the heat turning her temper against him, anger glistening on her skin, slick as sweat. "They're just as good, I promise."

She snatches the bag from his hand, flings the plums inside the fridge with a violence that makes him pull away his hand, cradle it against his chest. He doesn't dare touch her, he'll wait for this luminous rage to cool.

"Fine," she says, leaning into the cool, damp air, brushing dark curls off her face, and though her voice is sharp, it would only cut through flesh, perhaps, not the stone.

***

The temperature must have dropped five degrees, at least, but it's nowhere near bearable. She's dragged the fan in front of the sofa, and her eyelids barely open at the sound of plastic crinkling.

If the heat could stoke her temper it could soften it, too. He rolls a plum in his fingers, so delightfully, deliciously cold. And the sweat still glistens on the long expanse of her neck.

The vein flutters as he runs the plum from her chin to her collarbone, and he hears her deep, shuddering gasp. But she isn't angry, no, that spark in her eyes is something else entirely as he raises the plum to her open lips.

Her teeth punctures the black flesh, tearing it away, to the pale yellow flesh ringed with red. So violent, so intimate, and he wonders at that moment what she would taste like, sweetness and salt. Sticky fingers trace his jaw, his chin, linger on his lips, and beneath the sweetness he can taste her sweat on his tongue.

"I'm sorry I took-" Her finger shushes his apology, genuine, not given out of guilt or fear.

"It's alright," she says, and her voice makes him blush in a way the heat never could. "These are much better."

[otahyoni.livejournal.com]

This is one of the most gorgeous things I have ever read. You have blown me utterly away.

*gazes at comment fic in awe*

[artyartie.livejournal.com]

*blushes* Thank you! You come up with such wonderful prompts, my brain just has to live up to the challenge.

Though I kinda want a plum in the icebox. They're even black.

[yetanothermask.livejournal.com]

I'd love to see anything involving Atia in season one. I haven't seen past 1x11.