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Oolon Colluphid Was Right when Sergeant Pepper told the band to play.

In 1987, John Sheppard was just starting college at Stanford and McKay had gotten his Master's degree and the first ever official Star Wars convention was held in LA. Neither of them went because John was busy being too cool and Rodney was busy being too important. Both of them did however watch The Brave Little Toaster an excessive (and secretive) number of times in the theater.

Meanwhile, a photo of a very young and adorable Ronon Dex and a smolk-kitten went viral on the Satedan data nets.

"On the East Wind" - Harry's official first day as a nanny.

I think you may be vastly overestimating the extent to which even that AU-Harry is willing to be "official" anything to Marcone. (Actually he's probably even better at avoiding it than canon-Harry, since he's successfully been hiding from the White Council since he was a teenager.) I mean, they string out the "plausible deniability where we all pretend Marcone doesn't know Harry is faking it" thing for a ludicrous length of time, and then it morphs into "Harry is a detective who is undercover as their fake nanny", but he never becomes their actual official nanny *technically* by the point at which the girls start trying to get them to make a different aspect of their relationship official instead.

Probably the closest he gets is after they finally manage to track down where the Black Council has been holding Kincaid (which was really the main point of the whole charade in the beginning, Marcone agreed to help Ivy find out what had happened to Kincaid, and needed to acquire better magical help to fulfill his end of the deal) and Kincaid is like, I'm fucking retiring after this, you can take over my contract with the Archive, and Harry is like, wait what.

But even that was officially bodyguarding, not nannying.

Mu, an hour before, or, when they had to find clothes to fit Mouse

Pick one! Mouse had been human for well over an hour already and definitely had the hang of clothes.

When he got the hang of clothes ;)

ok, sure. although really Mouse has no problem with clothes, it's more that Harry has a problem with Mouse *not* having clothes.

Harry threw a veil over Mouse to get him home without causing a riot, because fuck everything.

He dropped it when they got home, and it got a lot harder not to notice just how very, very, very naked Mouse was. Except the collar. With Harry's name on it.

"I'm always naked," Mouse pointed out. "It doesn't usually bother you." Mister sauntered up, sniffed him, gave Harry a deeply unimpressed look, and jumped on the back of the couch for a nap.

"You're not usually that naked," Harry said. That was a lot of brown skin. A lot of muscles.

"I still have fur," Mouse pointed out.

Yeah. Dark and kind of curly and definitely a different texture than the fur he'd had as a dog. Harry had been trying not to notice that. It led to places he didn't want to think about. Literally led to them, in certain places.

"Just-- go in the bedroom and wrap yourself in a sheet or something," Harry said, turning his back.

"OK, Boss, if you say so."

He heard Mouse go into the bedroom and waited long enough that he figured it was safe, only to find Mouse possibly even more naked than before, because it was harder to get more naked than naked and sprawled on Harry's unmade bed.

He put a hand over his eyes again. "That is not what I meant, Mouse."

"It feels good, on skin," Mouse said. "Lots of stuff feel good on skin. I kinda see why you gave up fur."

"That's why we wear clothes, Mouse. Just. Cover yourself, please? I'll run down to the Junior League shop and get you some jeans and a t-shirt or something."

Mouse made a discontented noise and rolled over, the sheet wrapping around him. Probably. Harry still wasn't looking. This was incredibly inappropriate in so many ways. "That seems like a waste for three days. I can just wear yours," he said.

"I don't think mine will fit," Harry said in a slightly strangled voice. He had to shop at Big and Tall to get jeans that were long enough. Mouse would have to shop for Big. "Seriously, I can get you something at the thrift store and then donate it back."

"But yours smell like you," Mouse whined, as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to say. He god out of bed and rustled something. "You can turn around now," he added.

He'd wrapped the blanket around him like a sarong, which made him look like some kind of Asian surfer god. This was still a vast improvement on the previous, even if he was now rummaging through the pile on clothes on the floor.

"This should fit," he said, pulling out Harry's favorite Weird Al t-shirt.

Harry grabbed it out of his hands. Mouse raised a very eloquent eyebrow. He'd only had eyebrows for an hour, how could he do that?

"Not that one," Harry said. "You'll stretch it. Why do you care how it smells? You don't have a dog nose at the moment."

"Yeah," Mouse said. "And that sucks. I am being very calm and zen about this, Boss, because someone has to, but everything smells wrong. I smell wrong. Having something familiar around helps."

Harry couldn't really argue with that, even if it was still kind of weird. He pulled a less-favorite t-shirt out of the pile ("Rule nineteen: Remember Never To Forget Rule One") and said, "Here, that would probably fit." He always had to get them ludicrously baggy if he didn't want them to ride up. "I really don't think any of my jeans will fit you, though."

Mouse was peering into the closet. "I bet they will. You wear 'em loose, I don't have to. Where's that old soft pair that always makes you smell relaxed."

"You don't get that pair!" Harry said. Mouse made puppy-dog eyes at him. Harry sighed. "Fine." And pulled them out of the back of the closet.

"I bet they'll fit if I roll the cuffs up," he said, and he was probably right, because of course the ludicrous chest muscles were paired with tiny slim hips, because sometimes life wasn't fair. "Let me try them on." He reached for the blanket that was around his waist.

"No!" Harry said. "Underwear! And socks. Let me get you some underwear and socks and then I will leave the room while you change."

Mouse watched him digging in the sock drawer with an air of faint amusement that would have made Mister proud. "You're being silly, boss. You know I spent half an hour last night licking myself next to you in the bed."

"Thanks, I hadn't thought of that yet, that's very helpful." He tossed the rest of the clothes on the bed. "I'm going back out into the living room now. Don't come out until you have clothes on."

"What if I can't figure out the zippers?" Mouse asked.

"Yell for help and I'll toss Bob in to give you instructions.

Mouse chuckled. "Wow, you are discombobulated, boss."

"Was that a pun?" Harry asked. "No, never mind. Clothes. I'm leaving."

Mister gave an approving trill from Harry's lap when Mouse came out a few minutes later, not having needed help with the zippers. Harry turned to look.

The clothes that just sort hung on Harry and made him look like a homeless slob... did not look like that on Mouse. The T-shirt clung to every line of his pecs and Harry's oldest pair of jeans were actually filled out for the first time in their long career. They were straining across the thighs; Harry feared for the seams. He'd needed to fold up the cuffs a little bit, which did make Harry feel slightly better. Slightly.

Mouse stretched his arms over his head and everything strained and tightened even more. "I think it works on me," he said. "What do you think? You should wear clothes that fit you like this more often, Boss."

"You'll pass," Harry said with elaborate casualness.

"Nice," said Mouse, and flopped on the couch next to him at a (lack of) distance that would have been perfectly normal if he was still a dog. "So what's next? Do we have time for dinner before your thing with Marcone?"

"You are not coming to my thing with Marcone," Harry said. "For so many, many reasons, you are not coming to my thing with Marcone."

Mister abandoned his lap to curl up on Mouse's.

..I think I have now written more Mouse/Harry UST than anyone else on the internet. Thanks for that.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Hee!

Modern Careers in the Information Sciences (and Other White Lies), between the main story and when Nat and Bucky come back to the library.

This doesn't work anymore because my library now requires an up-to-date photo ID *and* separate proof-of-address to get a card, because obvs. library cards need to be THAT HARD to get, don't you know everyone is secretly trying to steal our scratched-up DVDs. ):

(Possibly I am bitter.)

Sigh. That does indeed suck.

It should not be harder to get a library card than to vote ...

I mean, it should also be easy to vote, but seriously, library board, I don't really think library card fraud is that huge of a thing to worry about. Especially considering my library is right next to a) a major military base and b) the county's largest homeless shelter, so the number of people who don't easily have both of those is actually fairly high...

So probably if I wrote more in that universe it would be about Bucky fighting for the importance of libraries as providing access to the people who need it most, and it would go VERY SOAP?bOX

Anything from The One Where Tony Stark and Princess Leia Hook Up.

You get bits of ones where I already have the sequel half-written, then. :P

He went whistling off to the cabin where he'd set Master Rogers up with a console and JARVIS. Rogers was staring at the console with a shell-shocked expression.

"Tony," he said, as Tony hovered in the door. "This can't-- what is this?"

He had part of The Private Journals of Mace Windu up on the screen, and Tony winced. "That is Imperial propaganda. I did warn you. I'm sure it's all lies. Right, JARVIS?"

"All legal media outlets during the Imperial hegemony were notorious for deliberate distortion and inaccuracy, and that particular account does contradict some of my own surviving memories of Master Windu." He tilted his head. "Of course, memories can be subject to alteration in a variety of ways--"

"Yeah, thanks, JARVIS," Tony said. "You should have stopped before that last sentence, by the way."

"Oh. Thank you for the correction."

"That's the problem, though," Rogers said. "It's not lies. Not most of it, that is. It's all true. From a certain point of view."

"Skywalker says that," Tony commented. "About truth from a certain point of view."

"Not surprised, it was one of Master Kenobi's," he said. He flicked off the screen and turned to Tony. "Tell me about the Jedi."

"What? --uh, I think you know more than I do."

"I want to know what you know, though."

"Well, they're, you're, an order of people who were sensitive to the Force, and trained in using it, and you use lightsabers -- well, not you, you have the light-shield, but most Jedi. Do most Jedi? ...I have no idea what you want me to say," he admitted.

"Just... start somewhere. Tell me about Skywalker. I assume you meant Luke, not Anakin?"

Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker. That topic, Tony could talk about as much as he wanted. "Luke. Yeah. He has no idea what he's doing. He had a little bit of training, from what I've gathered -- a few weeks with Master Kenobi, and maybe a few months with Yoda. He seems to think they imparted great wisdom to him, but I get the impression that Kenobi was kind of bitter and Yoda was kind of batsith crazy, and I think most of what he learned was practical techniques for war, ways to focus his power, how to kill a Dark Jedi, that kind of thing. At least he knows how much he doesn't know, but the Republic's set him up as some sort of golden boy savior figure, so now he thinks he's got the weight of the whole galaxy on his shoulders, and he's too terrified of turning into Vader to see anything clearly. Also he's a whiny brat, and I'm pretty sure he still has a thing for his sister, if you know what I mean. And none of that was me projecting, by the way."

"Yes, but is he a Jedi?"

"I've seen him use the Force; he's not showy, but I've seen him do more than you have; he has real power, I do know now that it's not all fakery and superstition."

"Yes, but is he a Jedi?"

Tony finally stopped to think about it. "I don't know. He thinks he is. Master Yoda told him he was. He's determined to recover everything he can, start a New Jedi Order, saving the best of the old ways and making new what needs to be made new. But I wouldn't lay odds that he's not delusional. What makes someone a Jedi?"

"That's a very good question," Rogers said, staring into the blank screen, and then didn't say anything else.

"I think--" Tony stopped, started again. "I'm not particularly fond of the guy, but I do respect him, and I think the Republic needs a Jedi right now. Maybe not later, I like to think we could manage just fine on our own without a bunch of magic-powered priest-enforcers running around, but he gives the Republic something to believe in. Something to remember."

"Maybe that's as good an answer as any," Steve said. "I've been the golden boy, Tony. After I-- and a lot of what we did before the Wars was that kind of thing, really. Show up on a little backwater planet where they weren't used to Force-users, wave our sabers around, accept their adulation and then give inspirational speeches. That stopped after the wars, though. After we proved again and again that we weren't infallible. We started having to really fight. And didn't do that well at it, to be honest."

"Nobody who pays attention will ever mistake Skywalker for infallible, I can tell you that much. He's constantly pointing out his own failures until I want to smack him upside the head."

"Maybe," Steve said thoughtfully, "maybe that's enough to make the difference. Hey, you eaten? I could use some lunch."

Ooooh, great, very interesting, thank you! For the shield, I'm picturing something like the Gungan shield?

Functionally, yeah. In form, more like the various energy shields that he's had in comics canon. Except more light-saber-y.

Post-Safeword.

Singer of the Deep, either something before with Amanda, or something on what the a'kweths did and where they went.

They went to Muscae IV to hang out with their cousins the ;At, of course. (Or possibly they were the ;At - they tend to be somewhat unclear on this.) They managed to bring quite a few of the Vulcans with them, eventually, a few timelines more or less. The Vulcans' interactions with Muscae's other intelligent races were, well, as one of the Vulcans put it, "Highly intriguing."

(the Ornae use a description better translated as "delight". Amanda Grayson concurs.)

Edited 2016-09-08 16:52 (UTC)

Oh, lovely! That is a wonderful thought, and I really need to reread that one.

Services to the Crown, after.

(I'm not expecting you to do all of these, but I know when I do this it's nice to have a choice, so feel free to do as many or as few as you want.)

This is never getting anymore because the people all turned out to be too evil and/or incompetent to deserve a dragon, but here's what I have:

Over the next few weeks 'the first Tory MP to successfully manage a harnessing' altered to 'the only Tory MP to successfully manage a harnessing.'

Not that the opposition had a perfect record either, but several of those eggs had been harnessed. Lord Mandelson had acquired a tiny, serpentine creature named Tenebra, who spoke to no-one but him and had a nasty habit of spitting acid at anyone who disagreed her Lord; Balls had a creature who appeared to consist of nothing but sad eyes and an inexplicable Scouse accent; and even Lord Kennedy had been seen stumbling out and about with one steadying hand on a mustard-yellow creature.

Sigh. yes. that is a lot easier to ignore when you've only heard the outline of what's going on in British politics, you haven't followed along specifically to see what everyone has been up to ...

Yeah, I still like the concept on Temeraire-end of dumping the extra dragon eggs on the rich politicians, but I'd have to use either OCs or historic people if I was writing it now.

The first time Bitty and Kent are in the same room after Bless Your Heart, Kent Parson?

Thanks, I guess I needed an excuse to write that.

<href=http://archiveofourown.org/works/8030167>Healthy & Straightforward Communication Skills

THIS IS AWESOME AND I LOVE YOUR KENNY SO FUCKING MUCH

I AM GLAD OTHER PEOPLE LIKE HIM SINCE APPARENTLY I CAN'T HELP MYSELF

HE IS SORT OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTER BUT DON'T TELL ANYONE

THAT BOY IS A PROBLEM