calliopes_pen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
calliopes_pen) wrote2009-01-17 04:39 pm
calliopes_pen) wrote2009-01-17 04:39 pm
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Answering The Time Stamp Meme--A Bit Late
I was writing the time stamp meme for brewsternorth, at the same time as I was writing my OT3 fanfic. The prompt was: “A month after your Jack Harkness-Peter Venkman crackficlet.” That can be located here. It ended up being immediately after Ghostbusters II as they’re all coming out of the museum, and rather than 100 words it’s 607 words, so I guess it's a drabble on steroids. Hope you like it.
While Jack still hated the 80’s, at least they were almost over. He also now made it a point to steadfastly avoid anything that could be ghost-related in New York City. He really didn’t want to end up on the receiving end of splatter from a little green ghost ever again. If it didn’t have a pulse, he couldn’t flirt with it--his one and only drawback.
He just hadn’t factored in the thought that Torchwood would want him to pick up a few items from there on New Year’s Eve, 1989. Nor had he factored in that he would be walking in front of a museum that appeared to be covered in Jell-O. Or that the Statue of Liberty would walk down the street, stomping a few cars.
And, at one point, dropping the torch on top of him. As he gasped himself back to life, he moaned in extreme frustration—Peter Venkman was standing over him, while Venkman’s other friends were dealing with some of the goo from the museum.
“You missed the fireworks, Harkness. Sorry about killing you--that’s getting to be a habit. You okay? No glowing eyes or worshipping any paintings?”
Jack shook his head, grinning as Peter helped him up. He could only assume it was a veiled reference to Dorian Grey--barring that, he really didn’twant to know. With a playful look at the other man, Jack said, “Damn. Missed the New Year’s kiss, too. There goes my year.”
Venkman grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, you’re still an Immortal Playboy, huh? Hey--did you ever find your Doctor? If not, Egon could always experiment on you. I’m sure you remember the ol’ colander I tried to get you to wear.”
There was a sad shake of the head, and a sigh, before Jack said, “Not yet...you don’t have that ghost around here again, do you?”
Venkman grinned, pointing behind them. “Oh, just that one. I think you two know each other--the spud helped Tully get here.”
Jack closed his eyes in disbelief, thinking he knew exactly which one it was. Sure enough, as he turned, he spotted a familiar green ghost waving at him from the front seat of a Greyhound bus. He tried not to think of how the little guy had driven without feet. “Now I’ve seen everything. Keep your slime to yourself, buddy!”
The little green ghost could be heard grunting in amusement over a noisemaker.
“Even the mood slime?”
Jack laughed as they started to move away from the throng of people cheering the New Year. “Even the mood slime. And try not to drop the Statue of Liberty on anyone when you’re putting her back up. She’s gorgeous enough now.”
“I’ll try! And you try not to let anyone experiment on you, got that?” After a moment of watching the others for a moment, and seeing them getting into the Ectomobile, Peter looked back at Jack with a more serious look in his eyes.
“Hey, you wanna come celebrate with us? We saved the world again--and as long as you avoid the bulky packs that have mood slime in them, things should be good.”
He was about to claim other obligations, when he decided Torchwood could wait. It was just one night, and he’d always loved a party. Hadn’t been to one in at least a hundred years, too. “Keep the scientists with the colanders away from me all night, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Venkman clapped his back, and laughed. “I can try. Maybe if you stick with me, and Dana and Oscar. Ray is dripping with goo right now, anyway.”
brewsternorth, at the same time as I was writing my OT3 fanfic. The prompt was: “A month after your Jack Harkness-Peter Venkman crackficlet.” That can be located here. It ended up being immediately after Ghostbusters II as they’re all coming out of the museum, and rather than 100 words it’s 607 words, so I guess it's a drabble on steroids. Hope you like it. While Jack still hated the 80’s, at least they were almost over. He also now made it a point to steadfastly avoid anything that could be ghost-related in New York City. He really didn’t want to end up on the receiving end of splatter from a little green ghost ever again. If it didn’t have a pulse, he couldn’t flirt with it--his one and only drawback.
He just hadn’t factored in the thought that Torchwood would want him to pick up a few items from there on New Year’s Eve, 1989. Nor had he factored in that he would be walking in front of a museum that appeared to be covered in Jell-O. Or that the Statue of Liberty would walk down the street, stomping a few cars.
And, at one point, dropping the torch on top of him. As he gasped himself back to life, he moaned in extreme frustration—Peter Venkman was standing over him, while Venkman’s other friends were dealing with some of the goo from the museum.
“You missed the fireworks, Harkness. Sorry about killing you--that’s getting to be a habit. You okay? No glowing eyes or worshipping any paintings?”
Jack shook his head, grinning as Peter helped him up. He could only assume it was a veiled reference to Dorian Grey--barring that, he really didn’twant to know. With a playful look at the other man, Jack said, “Damn. Missed the New Year’s kiss, too. There goes my year.”
Venkman grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, you’re still an Immortal Playboy, huh? Hey--did you ever find your Doctor? If not, Egon could always experiment on you. I’m sure you remember the ol’ colander I tried to get you to wear.”
There was a sad shake of the head, and a sigh, before Jack said, “Not yet...you don’t have that ghost around here again, do you?”
Venkman grinned, pointing behind them. “Oh, just that one. I think you two know each other--the spud helped Tully get here.”
Jack closed his eyes in disbelief, thinking he knew exactly which one it was. Sure enough, as he turned, he spotted a familiar green ghost waving at him from the front seat of a Greyhound bus. He tried not to think of how the little guy had driven without feet. “Now I’ve seen everything. Keep your slime to yourself, buddy!”
The little green ghost could be heard grunting in amusement over a noisemaker.
“Even the mood slime?”
Jack laughed as they started to move away from the throng of people cheering the New Year. “Even the mood slime. And try not to drop the Statue of Liberty on anyone when you’re putting her back up. She’s gorgeous enough now.”
“I’ll try! And you try not to let anyone experiment on you, got that?” After a moment of watching the others for a moment, and seeing them getting into the Ectomobile, Peter looked back at Jack with a more serious look in his eyes.
“Hey, you wanna come celebrate with us? We saved the world again--and as long as you avoid the bulky packs that have mood slime in them, things should be good.”
He was about to claim other obligations, when he decided Torchwood could wait. It was just one night, and he’d always loved a party. Hadn’t been to one in at least a hundred years, too. “Keep the scientists with the colanders away from me all night, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Venkman clapped his back, and laughed. “I can try. Maybe if you stick with me, and Dana and Oscar. Ray is dripping with goo right now, anyway.”
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