The Writer They Call Tay (awanderingbard) wrote,
The Writer They Call Tay

WIP Meme

As I mentioned recently, the plot bunnies are running wild, so it seemed like a good time to do this meme again:

Post a fragment from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick).

Unedited, please don't judge. Contents may be subject to change.

1. That One Weird AU Where Steve Rogers Meets A Nice Girl (which is about 70% joonscribble's fault)

"Well, someone's getting laid," Tony declared, when was Steve visiting the Tower, about three months after he'd started dating Nora. He hadn't told anyone about her, except for Bucky. He just didn't want a fuss about it.

"How can you--I mean...what?" Steve said. He felt his face flush.

Tony grinned. "I can tell," he said. "You're all relaxed-like. You had a good night. Must be a girl. Or a boy, I don't judge. When do we get to meet him or her? He or she must be pretty swell for you to go all the way before wedlock. You must be serious. Are you serious? Bring him or her--mmmmummmmmuhmmm!"

Pepper's hand had clamped firmly over his mouth.

"Do not answer any of his questions, Steve," She said. "He is a nosy, terrible human being." She slapped Tony in the arm.

"And an abused one, God," Tony said, after he'd removed her hand. "Everyone saw that my SO just hit me, right?" He looked around the room for imaginary confirmation, as it was only Steve and Pepper in there.

"Superior Officer?" Steve wondered.

"Significant Other," Tony corrected. "Though, sometimes it feels like the former. How about you? Do you have an SO now? Come on, I'm just going to keep bugging you. Pepper only has so many hands."

"Two is enough," Pepper said.

"Is it serious?" Tony asked. "Just tell me if it's serious."

"I don't know," Steve said. "She's just...nice."

"Aha! It's a girl, information!" Tony said, triumphantly. "What's her name? Does she have a name?"

"Yes," Steve said.

"Okay, girl with a name, I can work with that," Tony said. "J.A.R.V.I.S, track Cap on the security footage, we're going to figure this--ouch, stop hitting me!"

Pepper was not in the least guilty. "Leave Steve alone," she said. "This is why people don't tell you things."

Tony opened his mouth and closed it. "This is why people don't tell me things," he agreed. "Okay, fine, keep your secrets."

"Thank you," Steve said.

"But at least give me something," Tony burst out, a moment later. "Zip code? Shoe size? Hair colour?"

"It's kind," Steve said. "In a nice way, though."

"Redhead, huh?" Tony said. "I definitely approve. OW! Why did you hit me? That wasn't even offensive!"

Pepper looked taken aback. "You're right, I'm sorry, it's a force of habit," she said. "But you're going to say something at some point, so just consider it an advance."

"Okay, fine," Tony said. "That's fair. Hey, you have to be the oldest person in the world to have lost his virginity. We should call Guinness."

"Yep, that's why we strike in advance," Pepper said.

2. That Daemon One Where Jarvis and Haddie Look After Tony and Mim for the Day

"I don't suppose Mr Stark has notified Mrs Stark?" Haddie wondered.

"I doubt it occurred to him," Edwin said.

"If there are any press at that conference, they'll be asking her questions," Haddie said. "She should know."

"Yes, you're right," Edwin said. "I'll see if I can get in touch with her. She's at the Bellevue. I'll give them a ring right now."

Haddie wandered back to the parlour to see to Miss Demira and Master Tony. They were both still engrossed in the television programme, where a puppet named Polly introduced herself and her daemon, Kinto.

"What's your name?" Polly asked the camera.

"Tony," Master Tony replied. He patted Miss Demira. "De-mim-ra."

"Those are great names!" Polly said. "It's so nice to meet you. Kinto and I have a problem, maybe you could help us solve it. We found this shape here, but we don't know what it is. Do you know? It has 1, 2, 3 sides, and 1, 2, 3 corners. What shape is that?"

"Tri-nagle," Master Tony replied. Polly's expectant silence dragged on too long for him, and he repeated, more firmly, "tri-nagle!" Miss Demira nodded her head in agreement with him.

"That's right! It's a triangle," Polly said. "Triangles have 1, 2, 3 sides, and 1, 2, 3 corners."

"Tony is smart," Master Tony said. Miss Demira preened at their success.

On the television, Polly began to sing a song about triangles, and Master Tony got up to dance to it, bouncing up and down. Miss Demira pranced around his feet. It was rather catchy and Haddie had to concentrate to prevent her tail bobbing along to it, as well.

Edwin joined Haddie in the doorway. "I've left a message with Mrs Stark's assistant," he said. "Mrs Stark is in the shower at the moment. I've given as much detail as I know; hopefully she'll be able to come with something appropriate to respond if required."

"Mr Stark hadn't notified her, then," Haddie said.

"Well, he does have urgent things to attend to," Edwin pointed out.

"He's had a phone in his car since 1943, there is no reason for him not to have left a message," Haddie replied. "His insistence on leaving her out of everything does him no credit."

"I think he means to protect her," Edwin said.

"He would find her much more useful to him as a partner than an object to be coddled," Haddie said. "We learned very early on it was best to include Anna in your exploits. She is a great support to you."

"I don't live the kind of life Mr Stark leads," Edwin said.

"Thank goodness for that," Haddie said.

Edwin nudged her with his foot. "Don't pretend as though you haven't enjoyed our adventures, Hendrina," he said.

Haddie nudged him back. "I quite prefer you to be a part-time adventurer," she said. "Full time would be far too much for me."

"Yes, I am in firm agreement of that," Edwin said. "Full-time butler, part-time adventurer."

"Occasional child minder," Haddie added.

3. That One Where Angie Meets James Bond (this one is about 90% joonscribble's fault)

Angie kept the Louisville Slugger raised up by her shoulder as she peered around her bedroom door, and snuck down the hallway toward the noise. There was less crashing now, but still some thumps and shuffling. Angie braced herself at the corner of the living room, and then jumped into the hall, bat ready to go.

"Oh, really, Angie?" Peggy said. "All the weapons we have in this place and you're still threatening me with the bat?"

She had a guy with her, half draped over her, half leaning against the wall. He looked bad--beat up and maybe lit. Bloody nose, bloody clothes, wobbly.

"Look, this bat has scared off two robbers and a guy with very busy hands," Angie replied. "I can trust it. What's going on? Who's your friend?"

The man looked in her direction, eyes huge, like he found her both confusing and terrifying. Nice eyes, though. Wow. Ice blue and just jumping right out at you.

"He's a colleague," Peggy said. "He's...had a bit of a bad day."

"No kidding," Angie said. "What happened to him? Did you kiss him? He looks like after you kiss somebody."

"No, I didn't kiss him," Peggy said. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it was similar compound. It was injected."

"Before or after they worked him over?" Angie asked.

"After," Peggy said. "He took several blows on my behalf; I'm afraid I feel rather obliged to make sure he survives. I don't think a hospital is advisable, so I've brought him here. It was the closest. Sorry to wake you."

"It happens," Angie said, with a shrug. "You need a hand?"

"Yes, that would be very helpful, thank you," Peggy said.

Angie went over and slipped underneath his arm, on the opposite side to Peggy. "Hey there, big fella," she said. "I'm Angie."

The guy leaned in very close to her face and then back again, eyes still huge. And gorgeous. Up close even prettier.

"Pleasure," he murmured. "Bond. James Bond."

"Swell to meet you, Bond-James-Bond," Angie said. "Let's get you to bed."

4. The One Where Howard Asks Maria to Go to Paris With Him

"Miss Carrera has not rung," Jarvis said, before Howard could ask him. "I sincerely promise that the moment she does, I will inform you immediately."

Howard went back to the engine he was working on. He was working on it so he didn't have to fuss, but he was fussing anyway. Normally building took his mind off things, but his mind was twitchy and uncooperative. No wonder people said love made you stupid. Howard wasn't even sure if this was love, and he was already gaga. Nicely gaga, though, a kind he could get used to. Kind of a floaty gaga, like too much champagne. That was fucking cliche.

"I'll stop asking you," Howard said. "Sorry."

"No, I apologize if I was sharp," Jarvis said. "I just don't like to see you anxious."

"I'm not anxious," Howard said. "I'm..." He struggled. "What's a word that means you're thinking about something and waiting for it to happen?"

"Anxious," Jarvis said.

Howard glared at him. "I'm not anxious," he said. "Get me that wrench."

Jarvis went to the wall, and brought it to him. "Not to increase your lack of anxiety, but have you considered what you're going to do if Miss Carrera doesn't call?" he asked.

"Yeah," Howard said.

"And, what do you intend to do?" Jarvis said.

"I haven't decided yet," Howard said. "But I think it'll be a toss up between respecting her decision or getting really drunk. I'm leaning toward both."

"Ah," Jarvis said. "Well, I suppose that's reasonable. Almost mature."

"I'm middle aged now, it was bound to happen at some point," Howard said.

"Yes, sir, but I was starting to lose hope," Jarvis said, with a smirk. He took the wrench back when Howard handed it to him. "Mrs Jarvis would like to invite you to dinner."

"I'm not much company," Howard said.

"Yes, sir, that's why she'd like to have you," Jarvis said. "She's concerned."

Howard felt loved from somewhere, at least. "Thanks, but, at the risk of sounding like a lovesick fool, I don't want to miss Maria's call," he said.

"I understand," Jarvis said.

Howard looked at the clock. It was 5PM on Sunday night. "There's still time, right?" he said.

"Yes, plenty," Jarvis said, not very confidently.

Howard nodded down his welding mask. "Cover your eyes or leave," he warned.

5. That Really Long Trio 'Verse One that I Will Finish. Some time. Hopefully.

Sherlock had booked them into Business Premier class, which meant Q could finally sit and do some proper work. He had a power socket at his disposal, a comfortable seat, his Wi-Fi bracelet, and a continuous supply of semi-proper tea. All he needed to start actually contributing to Ly's retrieval.

His first task was trying to get Ly's dot back online. If they could find him that way, it would save ages of time. Q briefed himself and had the process down within a few minutes. He also started a facial recognition search of Paris CCTV footage, in case Ly had been caught on screen somewhere after his dot went offline.

"How do you do this?" Sherlock asked him. "Just sit there? It's maddening to sit still when there are things to be done."

"My skills are best used stationary," Q replied. "And, technically speaking, we are hurtling towards France, and therefore not sitting still."

Sherlock tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. "I'm still wasting time," he said.

"Until I invent teleportation, there is no way to instantly get to Paris from London," Q said.

"Oh, are you going to invent it?" Sherlock said.

"Of course," Q said. "I don't see who else is going to do it. Perhaps I could finally get that Nobel prize they keep failing to nominate me for."

"They don't give out prizes for technology," Sherlock said.

"Which is an oversight on their part," Q said. "When they do, I suspect I'll be the first recipient."

"You've already won the Kyoto Prize twice," Sherlock added. "Isn't that basically the same thing?"

Q looked up from his laptop, surprised. "You know that?" he said.

"Yes," Sherlock said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I...don't know," Q said. "It doesn't seem as though it would something you'd find interesting to store."

Sherlock shrugged. "It's not as though you've won anything else of importance that I would be overwhelmed by the numbers."

"It's the only thing I've won that you or Mycroft didn't win first," Q said.

"And you couldn't even do it under your own name," Sherlock said. "What's the point?"

"Money," Q said.

"How noble," Sherlock sad.

"No, it's not Nobel," Q said, with a grin. "That's the problem."
Tags: memeage

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