requests } { 100 situations

[iluvroadrunner6]

Okay. Here's the deal.

My writing muse has been kicking me in the ass. I want to try and jumpstart it. So here is the plan: under the cut there is a table of prompts that I stole from 100_situations. You give me a verse and/or pairing and a prompt, and I will write you comment fic.

It doesn't have to be something we play. It could just be something that you know I know. Crossovers are gold. Cracky funtime prompts are even better. You can give me as many as you want, but do keep in mind that there are only a hundred prompts and you do need to share.

I will try to get as many of these as I can done this week so that they're not other there forever as they usually are. Just MAKE ME WRITE. Please. I will guarantee you at least a hundred words.

Thank you.

001.	Tired	002.	Back Alley	003.	Sunrise	004.	Late	005.	Son
006.	Hot	007.	Friend	008.	Floor	009.	Cheat	010.	Think
011.	Disgust	012.	Shelter	013.	Borrow	014.	Chair	015.	Alter
016.	Peace	017.	Beach	018.	True	019.	Crazy	020.	Love
021.	New	022.	Beggar	023.	False	024.	Happy	025.	Cancer
026.	Pickpocket	027.	Reverse	028.	Deliver	029.	Arrival	030.	Fall
031.	Knife	032.	Torn	033.	Danger	034.	Neutral	035.	Mate
036.	Fly	037.	Loud	038.	Touch	039.	Seek	040.	Argue
041.	Work	042.	Sink	043.	Nut	044.	Stuck	045.	Animal
046.	Pray	047.	Kill	048.	Light	049.	Cold	050.	Affair
051.	Restaurant	052.	Movie	053.	Wait	054.	Patient	055.	Crime
056.	Choke	057.	Fever	058.	Summer	059.	Eat	060.	Thirst
061.	Chance	062.	Appear	063.	Whisper	064.	Day	065.	Scream
066.	Fail	067.	Confused	068.	Smile	069.	Come	070.	Alone
071.	Fast	072.	Slow	073.	Return	074.	Fire	075.	Positive
076.	Baby	077.	Upset	078.	Kitchen	079.	Winter	080.	Ignorant
081.	Fool	082.	Afraid	083.	Prison	084.	Sex	085.	Hate
086.	Alarm	087.	Genius	088.	Negative	089.	Flood	090.	Bomb
091.	Hospital	092.	Trap	093.	Celebrate	094.	Old	095.	Disappear
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

Prompts Written: 37/100
Total Word Count: 38,549 words

Comments

[huntersdaughter]

092. Trap - Rachel Gibson / Eliot Spencer

044. Stuck - Parker / Neal

don't need your heart cuz i've got mine | alias/leverage | 750 words

[liberatedcroatia]

“I can’t believe this is happening. Again.”

Eliot sighs heavily as he leans back against the chair he’s tied to. Rachel is at his back and needless to say this is not the way he wanted to see her again. This isn’t really the way you want to see anyone again, but finding out she’s CIA is one of the many low points in his very eventful day. But right now, his major concern is that they’re tied together, while the person who ambushed them is getting away with the package.

The fact that Rachel isn’t concerned with that, however, is a little troubling.

“Don’t you think you have bigger things to worry about right now?”

“I mean, is it just something about me? Do I look like an easy mark?”

“Rachel.” She’s spiraling, unable to really focus on much else. To be fair, focusing on him is better than focusing on the fact that Damien Moreau is most assuredly going to kill them, but it isn’t helpful at the moment. They need to get out of there before Moreau comes back to actually follow through on that promise, and Rachel panicking isn’t going to get them anywhere.

“It has to be something. First Sark, now you—that can’t be a coincidence.”

“Rachel, now really isn’t the—” It takes a moment, but his brain actually processes the name, and he cranes his head around to try and get a better look at her. “—Julian Sark?”

“Okay, I don’t need you rubbing it in on top of it, alright? It wasn’t exactly my finest moment.”

Eliot still can’t get over the fact that she just compared him to that tool, but he swallows that down for now—or tries. “I am nothing like Julian Sark.”

“Eliot—”

“No, Sark is a pompous ass, we’re not even close to the same person.” Eliot might not be a nice guy, but he at least is not as bad as Sark.

“Right. So you’re saying that you would have remembered my name and called me?”

The sarcasm was there, and the instinct is there to bite back, but he knows she has a point. His head dips a bit, and he smirks. “I was thinkin’ about it.”

There’s a long pause from the girl at his back, and then a squeak as she shifts in her chair. “Really?”

“If we don’t get out of here, it’s not going to matter, so I think we should figure that out first.”

At that, there’s a bit of a laugh. “I think you’re not quite getting what my mission is here.”

“I’m guessing the company sent you in here to infiltrate Moreau’s organization.”

“Yeah. But I’m not meant to be here undercover. I’m the bait.”

“Bait?”

As soon as the word is out of his mouth, sounds of a scuffle echo from down the hall. It makes Eliot even more anxious to get out of these zip ties and be able to defend himself, but when the door’s finally broken down—the face on the other side is not who he expects.

“Bristow?”

Sydney looks at him for a moment, before laughing. “Eliot Spencer. I should have known.”

Rachel only continues to look amused. Or at least that’s what he can hear in her voice. “I take it you two have met before?”

“It’s a long story.” They reply simultaneously, and Sydney smirks again before continuing.

“I tried to get him to work for APO.”

“Which she should have known wasn’t going to happen.”

“I didn’t know that. I can be very persuasive.”

“The last time we saw each other before that you broke my arm!”

“That wasn’t personal. And you put up a pretty good fight before I managed to break that arm. I can recognize capable when I see it.”

Eliot rolls his eyes as the zip ties are finally cut free and he rubs his wrists. “I work alone.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” Sydney sighs heavily and looks at both of them. “Dixon is loading up Moreau and his men. We’re heading out to the rendezvous in five.”

“I’ll be there.” Rachel nods, and Sydney and the rest of her men clear out the room. She waits until Eliot turns her, before giving him a bit of a smile. “So. Were you really serious about calling me, or were you saying that to one-up Sark?”

He laughs softly, before leaning in a bit closer. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

i'm gonna stick like glue | swallow the lies | 1613 words

[alias_savant]

When Neal Caffrey plans something, he does it right.

Planning isn’t necessarily a luxury he can always afford. When he can, when he takes the time to make sure something will go off without a hitch, it usually does. He plans for all the angles, makes sure there’s always an exit strategy, and is never afraid to play a long game. Especially when it’s something this important.

He has ninety-five percent of the FBI angle worked out. Agent McSweeten is pleasantly easy to convince that Neal is an asset worth being borrowed, and Peter’s finally stopped giving him that judgmental ‘I know you’re up to something’ stare. All he needs is to fool the one thing he can’t con. His tracking anklet.

Fortunately, he knows a fantastic hacker.

Unfortunately, Hardison hates him.

… Okay, hate is probably a strong word, but Hardison definitely doesn’t like Neal, which makes it harder for Neal to convince him that this is something that needs to be done. Normally, he would wine him and dine him, but given that Hardison’s in Boston and Neal’s in New York, he’s going to have to do this over the phone.

The phone rings a few times, before Hardison’s voice comes over the line. “Yeah?”

“Hardison! It’s Neal.”

“No.” Then there is a click! as the line is disconnected.

That went about as well as could be expected. Neal waits for about five minutes, before hitting redial on the phone.

“What part of ‘no’ wasn’t clear the first time?”

“It’s for Parker.”

There’s another long pause on the other end of the line. “What?”

“I need you to help me hack my tracking anklet.”

“Your tracking anklet.” Neal could practically see the frustration on Hardison’s face already. “Sorry. You’re right, I did give you the wrong answer. I should have said hell no.”

“Hardison, it’s for—”

“Do not give me the it’s for Parker crap. I am not an idiot. Hacking your anklet sounds more like something for you than something for her.”

“Would you give me five minutes to explain before you rush to judgment on what I’m asking you to do? Please?”

“Fine. Five minutes.” There’s a beep from somewhere on the other side of the phone.

“Are you timing me?”

“You are wasting your five minutes.”

Neal sighs heavily before speaking again. “Parker’s birthday is coming up, in case you didn’t already know—”

“What. Yes, I already knew that. Parker and I have a deep and profound bond. We understand each other in ways that you do not and will never comprehend.”

There’s a pause. “Are you done?”

“Am I—Am I done? You really gone go and ask me that right now?”

“Hardison … ”

“Just get on with it.”

“Parker and I have this … tradition. But in order to do it this year, I need for my tracking anklet to say I’m in my hotel room, safe and sound.”

“And you want me to make that happen.”

“You’re the only person I know who feasibly could.”

There is another long pause on the other end of the line as Hardison mulls it over. Neal knows that the last thing Hardison wants to do is help him, but he also knows with Parker on the table, there’s little room for him to say no. There’s a heavy sigh.

“Send me the specs and I’ll see what I can do.” A pause. “But if I manage to do this do not think that you are getting a ‘get off the anklet’ free card. This is just for Parker’s birthday.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything more.” Neal tries not to sound pleased at the fact that he’s getting his way, but he’s never been very good at that. “I’m sending you the specs now.” He sends the email before leaning back with the phone. “Thank you, Hardison.”

“I still don’t like you.”

He doesn’t give Neal a chance to respond to that before he hangs up the phone. It’s not much, but at least he still didn’t say no.

***

“You know, I’m surprised Agent Hagen would wind up with someone like you. She doesn’t seem the criminal type.”

It takes a lot for Neal not to laugh at that, but he’s not about to blow Parker’s cover. “It wasn’t something we planned, really. It just … happened.”

McSweeten nods, but he can see that the man is pretty disappointed. He clearly had a bit of a crush on Parker himself. Not that Neal could blame him, really. Parker is pretty fantastic. They come up to the hotel room door, and McSweeten hesitates for a moment before knocking.

There’s no sound behind the door before Parker opens it, looking confused. Her eyes linger on McSweeten for a moment, and then shift to Neal. There’s a small amount of recognition there, but she’s still not entirely sure what’s happening.

“Agent McSweeten. Neal.”

“Agent Hagen,” he says with a smile. It’s his subtle way of letting Parker in on the con, and her eyebrows go up for a moment before she responds.

“What’s going on?”

“Agent Burke loaned Neal to us for a case, and watching him hasn’t been much trouble. However, my partner and I have to take care of some … official business that we can’t take Caffrey along on. He’s assured us that he will be safe with you.”

Neal is grinning at her over McSweeten’s shoulder, and Parker is trying her best not to look amused. It’s actually not bad. She’s gotten better at that since the last time he saw her.

“No problem,” she says, stepping to the side so that he can come inside. “I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble.”

“Thank you,” McSweeten nods as he steps back, and Neal makes his way into the hotel room. “It was nice seeing you again, Agent Hagen.”

“You too, Agent McSweeten.” As soon as McSweeten starts heading down the hallway, Parker closes the door behind him, and gives Neal a look. “What are you doing here?”

“Working a case for the FBI,” he says innocently, his shoulders coming up in a bit of a shrug. “Just like the man said.”

“In Boston?”

Neal takes a deep breath, before giving her a bit of an innocent look. “It’s your birthday.”

“Duh. I know that.” She frowns, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not sure what that has to do with … ” Her voice drifts off as what he’s asking her starts to dawn on her. “And you’re in Boston.”

“I am,” he grins.

“What about your anklet?”

“Hardison.”

“ … He helped you? I thought he hates you.”

“I think hate is a strong word.”

“He told me once he wanted to strangle you with your tie. And punch out the bottom of your hat.”

Neal pauses as he takes that in. “I’m not sure if I should be more worried for my life or my hats.”

“But he helped you.”

“In theory. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what happens, but so far, so good.”

Parker doesn’t let that statement weigh on her for long. If Hardison helped, it must be good enough for her, because her next response is a wide, child-like smile and moving a bit closer to him.

“So. What are we stealing?”

***

When the curators at the Harvard Art Museum come in to work the next morning, they are dismayed to find that they are down a Gustave Moreau, as well as a portrait of Augusta Savage.

They would have been extremely upset, if not for the fact that two days later, the pieces were mailed back to them, perfectly intact.

***

Neal returns to New York with a bit of a bounce in his step, something that seems to rub Peter the wrong way from the moment he walks in the door. Neal does his best to ignore it, going right to his desk and settling in to catch up on what he missed. Peter is the one who makes his way over to him, leaning against the side of his desk with a look.

“Have a nice vacation?”

“Vacation?” Neal blinks up at him. “I was working a case. I’d hardly call that a vacation.”

“You were in Boston. Trying to tell me you didn’t take the opportunity to see Parker?”

Neal’s face continued to remain completely innocent. “Even if I did—it’s not really a vacation if you just see your girlfriend for a few hours the night before you leave.”

“So Parker’s your girlfriend now?”

“In the conventional sense. I don’t know if that’s what she would call it, but it’s close enough.”

Peter’s quiet for a moment, still regarding Neal with a look that says he doesn’t quite trust Neal’s intentions being honorable. Neal, honestly, couldn’t say he blamed him, but he isn’t going to be giving anything up either.

“While you were in Boston, the Harvard Art Museum was hit. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Why do I have the feeling I should be worried?”

“Do you have anything to be worried about?”

“Can’t say I do, no.”

“Good,” Peter replies, before pushing away from Neal’s desk and heading back to his office. “Keep it that way.”

Neal waits until Peter’s back in the office before burying his smirk in the file in front of him. Five minutes later, his phone buzzes in his pocket as he gets a text from Parker.

What are we doing for your birthday?

Neal grins a bit at that, before sending a quick response back:

I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?