Random Old Music Memes
Aug. 2nd, 2009 03:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quidamlingTitle: The music meme that goes around every once in a while, play random songs, write till they end.
'Verse: Totally random
Characters: Whoever volunteered
Summary: Ummm... even I don't always know.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
AN: I ALWAYS cheat, and finish it. I am unrepentant about this.
These wander through about any plot bunny/AU I have access to or dabble in. There are blatant contradictions. I am also unrepentant about this. ♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Fray - 'All at Once'
Maybe you want her, maybe you need her... Jo shook her head, cursing the meanderings of mind and song lyrics during menial manual labor. Just about finishing her shift in with the assorted rigs of the house. Ambulances, the fire trucks, cruisers, even a jet ski. The tedious work of checking all the oil levels, regular maintenance, clearing out Reba and Fernando’s damn takeout from the Fire Command vehicle. She was smitten, it was official, meandering over to the ambulance and plopping down on the back step of the shining rig. Her parents weren’t around to disapprove, and God knew her brother would understand…
John Butler Trio - 'Devil Running'
Slowly, black geared men and women slinking through chaos and weaving through a nightmare created by one sick man.
Pre-dawn they got into position. Closing escapes, tightening the noose. Ophelia called commands over their radio, moving the rest of the team as Petra had planned. Johanna ground her jaw until her cheek was raw, clammy hands gripping the butt of her pistol, just waiting for the clear. Erin had to be inside, had to be ok…
It took three hits with the ram to break through the door. The gray figure straightened, a blade to a creamy throat, the red of laser sights seemed like demonic red eyes in the shadows. A quick flick and Jo screamed, rage and something feral that made him blink; then the bastard bolted.
She was moving before she heard the command to hold back, wrath in black. He was startled enough to stumble, twisting awkwardly and producing a weapon. The bullet hit her vest, turning the world white. Jo pounced, jamming her pistol up under his jaw hard enough for blood to dribble from his lips. Ophelia and the rest circled them, pinning the man and Petra pulled her off, “Jo, Jo… Erin. Go.”
Bacilos - 'Mi Primer Millon'
Jazz worked so hard, and Prowl appreciated it. He could never stand that life, the noise, the fans. But Jazz seemed so at home in that world. He and Soundwave could spend ages just fiddling with one line of simple notes to get the tone just right. The performances buzzed with energy, the pulsing beat of music and Jazz’s beautiful voice. Sometimes Prowl stood at the back of the bar and smiled. His coworkers occasionally found his dorsalwings dipping subtly to an audioclip of a favorite song. The hazards of a quiet filing and sorting job.
It was really popular. But Prowl loved the sentiment more.
“I just want to get to the commlines, to earn a few credits, to buy you a big home, in which to house your spark.”
Irish Rovers - 'Coulter’s Candy'
‘Hide watched Aidan squealing happily with Jazz, and rumbled softly in amusement. Little silver bit, completely unaware of how tiny he was, and demanding a portion of his energon goodie just because he wanted it. Playing chase, and being far faster than made any sense. Always surprising, offering a cling to leg plating at just the right moment to break a bad mood. The contented little purry chirps, curling over a familiar sparkpulse and tiny hands gripping to plating…
Ratchet snuck up behind his distracted mate, slipping arms around Ironhide’s waist. “You’re practically purring,” he murmured, laying a kiss onto a black shoulder. “What gives?”
Crested helm tipped to the little silver bit across the way. “Just thinking, of a certain prickly little sparkling…” He twisted and draped an arm over the Hummer’s back.
“I wasn’t that bad,” Ratch gave his trademark sharky grin.
“As easy to handle then as now,” ‘Hide rumbled, nudging his brow against chartreuse.
“Yeah, told you- HEY!”
Clannad – 'Theme from Harry’s Game'
The mech wrenched his energon sword through the neck and cranial case of the Decepticon Bonecrusher and dropped the sparking processors at his feet. He turned his helm towards his troops that had continued on ahead. Folding down into his alt, the Prime barreled towards his subordinates.
Two very different voices and a single databurst screamed through his processors…
Fraggit Jazz - Aft took on Megatron-
Optimus! Jazz is…
:Prime… Now, we need you! :
Further Seems Forever – 'Make it a Part'
Her life was sedate; she went about her days, to work, home, groceries, cleaning… Petra spent so much time blocking out her memories and her life with her ex-husband that she never quite realized she had left a negative mark. Sometimes her coworkers dragged her out for a few drinks, coaxed her to the station parties. She saw the vibrancy in their lives; the colors in their relationships, the fire in Jo and Erin that made her life poured into her work seem monochrome. Black and white.
Huddled in a ball in a comfy chair of a bookstore after her shift ended, she glanced up at someone politely clearing his throat.
“Reconciliation,” he drawled, islands and warmth coloring his accent. “Sounds like ah good book.” Creamy mocha complexion, sparkling brown eyes dancing above a silver pair of sunglasses pulled down his nose, dark jeans countered with a blue and red tie. He swirled the coffee in his hand, “Seema lil chilled, may Ah treatcha to a drink?”
Robbie Robertson – 'Shine your Light'
Jo couldn’t help the whimper. She did have every right to complain, with the bruise and welt on her flank the size of a grapefruit. Even so, she tried to bite back the next, unable to help but consider it a sign of weakness.
It had begun as a simple traffic stop.
Two idiots. Too fast. Probably too much booze.
She’d pulled out behind them and flicked lights and siren. They did pull over, but it almost took just a few moments too long. Taking the time to let them stew; run the plates and radio the information in, a brief back and forth with Reba before clicking the radio back onto the center console.
The two were glancing back at her and talking quickly with each other. The detective’s hackles went up, idly unclipping her weapon and setting her thumb over the safety as she approached the vehicle. Great, the morons probably had an open container, or a bag of pot and were getting antsy. Just what she wanted to deal with in the last hour of her shift…
“License and registration, please.” Johanna ordered, looking over the interior of the sports car.
The driver returned her gaze, but the other was fidgeting and peering anywhere but at her. When the passenger reached for the glove compartment, they hissed at each other.
“Is there a problem?”
“Nah, nah. Here. …Miss.”
Johanna didn’t huff, but it was obvious he’d almost said something much more colorful. Sexist bastard. She took the ID and the crumpled paperwork, thumbing the corner she was almost sure it was a fake license. “You know you were going a bit fast, back there?”
“No, I didn’t see a limit sign no where.”
Glancing at the back of the most recent sign, not a hundred yards back, she nodded. “I’ll be a minute with these.”
Trust your gut. Her father had always said, ‘Trust yer damn gut.’
As Johanna was walking back to her cruiser, she kept her right hand on her weapon. Her other hand clicked the walkie at her shoulder. “Control, come in. Reba, need you to run a check. Driver’s ID 84, 7 80-” Then she heard the crack; time slowed, training kicking in and it seemed like an eternity for her to tense. Draw sidearm, crouch, turn, flank the cruiser, return fire, call for back up…
But that didn’t happen. She felt like she’d been loosed from a slingshot, jolting forward and falling to her knees. The scream of tires behind her, the smell of burning rubber. Burning, pain. Pain? Slingshot. Shot. They’d taken a shot. She’d taken a shot. It hurt. The sound of the car faded at her back. Back. Shot in the back.
Like watching it happen. She pulled her pistol from the holster, pivoted on her knees and leaned against the front quarterpanel of her cruiser, then emptied three shots at the retreating car. There was at least one reassuring clank of metal meeting metal.
Breathe.
It had been less than seconds. Johanna had to force herself to breathe again. It hurt to. But breathing is important, keep doing it anyway.
Call for backup.
“Shots fired,” she gasped into the walkie. “Suspect fleeing the scene. Requesting backup and medical.”
“Officer 312, report,” Reba called. The 911 operator began coordinating the other members of the house rolling out.
“Immediate assistance…” Johanna replied shakily, securing her weapon and leaning against the metal of the vehicle. She was terrified to touch her back, the blinding throb burning low above her hip. “Officer down…” Jo just cradled her head against the car with her arm, not wanting to feel her hand come away wet if the bullet had missed her vest.
“Ambulance en route, 312. Jo, Johanna, hold on.”
The ebony-haired woman could only chuckle, Reba of all people breaking radio protocol, but stopped when that pierced fresh agony up her spine.
She let herself slip into a hazy world, the traffic seemed to fade, just the sound of her forcing herself to breathe and her pounding heartbeat.
There were faint sirens. They got louder, she heard the bleep of cruisers race by, then the wail of an ambulance stop beside her. Voices spoke, took her pulse, told her to move, shined lights in her eyes, eased her onto a gurney. The bump of being loaded into the rig made her see stars. Only then, they removed her shirt and vest.
She didn’t feel blood pool as the clothes came away, but when someone touched her it took everything not to scream or be sick. Or both.
“The Kevlar caught it, still should get her checked out. CAT scan in case it damaged the kidney or her hip bone. Start a morphine…”
Morphine, painkillers were her friend.
The rig doors closed, completing the cottony cocoon that the meds were quickly beginning. Things stayed in the fuzzy dreamlike place for being brought into the hospital, there she was stripped the rest of the way from her uniform, poked and prodded and scanned. More familiar voices drifted in.
“All considered, she was very, very lucky. A matter of inches. We just want to keep her overnight in case of a slow internal bleed or complications.”
When the drugs started to wear off, and things came back into focus, she was in one of those stupid hospital gowns in a private room. There was an IV in her arm and an ice pack on her hip. Ophelia being present she could understand, the concern evident on her face. The twins flanked her bed, Sean reached and brushed black hair from her brow in a show of support. Reba was there as well, held tightly in Fernado’s arms. Jo croaked a ‘thanks’ to her and the other woman nodded. Petra stood quietly at the foot of the bed, peering at Jamie. Johanna hoped that whatever he was working on was not a get-well-present. The only part that she could not understand, determined that it had to be the morphine, was why Erin was glaring at her like she was furious.
She nodded as people spoke (hopefully in the right places), hoped that stabbing at the painkiller button on her IV was not too obvious, and winced each time she tried to roll over.
Quietly the thought wormed through her mind that they could have just as easily been standing around her coffin as her bed.
As the crowd started drifting off, the Detective wanted to beg them to stay, not to leave her alone. Then the nurse came to shoo the visitors away with authority, to leave her to aches and the might-have-beens that require the visits with the county shrink before she can be returned to full, active duty. A few final goodbyes and she heard the door close.
When Jo tried to roll over the whimpers started escaping from her throat. The first was bad enough, the others fast on its heels felt like they had claws. She hurt, she was badly shaken, she was terrified that maybe she couldn’t return to work, and she was alone. The earliest that Heath could possibly arrive would be the morning. Johanna closed her eyes and tried to let the drugs drag her back to sleep.
A weight settled on the edge of the bed and she jumped, hissing in renewed pain. Jo opened her eyes to see red hair, Erin wrapped her arms around the detective’s shoulders.
“I don’t need to say it.”
“I- I could have died.”
“Or the possible internal hemorrhaging, kidney damage, nerve damage…” When Jo trembled, the paramedic stopped. “You’re fine. You will be fine, it’s just a precaution."
The wall broke and she started crying, the pain from shaking and gasping adding to her grief. Erin simply held the Police officer until she finally collapsed to sleep.
'Verse: Totally random
Characters: Whoever volunteered
Summary: Ummm... even I don't always know.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
AN: I ALWAYS cheat, and finish it. I am unrepentant about this.
These wander through about any plot bunny/AU I have access to or dabble in. There are blatant contradictions. I am also unrepentant about this. ♥
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Fray - 'All at Once'
Maybe you want her, maybe you need her... Jo shook her head, cursing the meanderings of mind and song lyrics during menial manual labor. Just about finishing her shift in with the assorted rigs of the house. Ambulances, the fire trucks, cruisers, even a jet ski. The tedious work of checking all the oil levels, regular maintenance, clearing out Reba and Fernando’s damn takeout from the Fire Command vehicle. She was smitten, it was official, meandering over to the ambulance and plopping down on the back step of the shining rig. Her parents weren’t around to disapprove, and God knew her brother would understand…
John Butler Trio - 'Devil Running'
Slowly, black geared men and women slinking through chaos and weaving through a nightmare created by one sick man.
Pre-dawn they got into position. Closing escapes, tightening the noose. Ophelia called commands over their radio, moving the rest of the team as Petra had planned. Johanna ground her jaw until her cheek was raw, clammy hands gripping the butt of her pistol, just waiting for the clear. Erin had to be inside, had to be ok…
It took three hits with the ram to break through the door. The gray figure straightened, a blade to a creamy throat, the red of laser sights seemed like demonic red eyes in the shadows. A quick flick and Jo screamed, rage and something feral that made him blink; then the bastard bolted.
She was moving before she heard the command to hold back, wrath in black. He was startled enough to stumble, twisting awkwardly and producing a weapon. The bullet hit her vest, turning the world white. Jo pounced, jamming her pistol up under his jaw hard enough for blood to dribble from his lips. Ophelia and the rest circled them, pinning the man and Petra pulled her off, “Jo, Jo… Erin. Go.”
Bacilos - 'Mi Primer Millon'
Jazz worked so hard, and Prowl appreciated it. He could never stand that life, the noise, the fans. But Jazz seemed so at home in that world. He and Soundwave could spend ages just fiddling with one line of simple notes to get the tone just right. The performances buzzed with energy, the pulsing beat of music and Jazz’s beautiful voice. Sometimes Prowl stood at the back of the bar and smiled. His coworkers occasionally found his dorsalwings dipping subtly to an audioclip of a favorite song. The hazards of a quiet filing and sorting job.
It was really popular. But Prowl loved the sentiment more.
“I just want to get to the commlines, to earn a few credits, to buy you a big home, in which to house your spark.”
Irish Rovers - 'Coulter’s Candy'
‘Hide watched Aidan squealing happily with Jazz, and rumbled softly in amusement. Little silver bit, completely unaware of how tiny he was, and demanding a portion of his energon goodie just because he wanted it. Playing chase, and being far faster than made any sense. Always surprising, offering a cling to leg plating at just the right moment to break a bad mood. The contented little purry chirps, curling over a familiar sparkpulse and tiny hands gripping to plating…
Ratchet snuck up behind his distracted mate, slipping arms around Ironhide’s waist. “You’re practically purring,” he murmured, laying a kiss onto a black shoulder. “What gives?”
Crested helm tipped to the little silver bit across the way. “Just thinking, of a certain prickly little sparkling…” He twisted and draped an arm over the Hummer’s back.
“I wasn’t that bad,” Ratch gave his trademark sharky grin.
“As easy to handle then as now,” ‘Hide rumbled, nudging his brow against chartreuse.
“Yeah, told you- HEY!”
Clannad – 'Theme from Harry’s Game'
The mech wrenched his energon sword through the neck and cranial case of the Decepticon Bonecrusher and dropped the sparking processors at his feet. He turned his helm towards his troops that had continued on ahead. Folding down into his alt, the Prime barreled towards his subordinates.
Two very different voices and a single databurst screamed through his processors…
Fraggit Jazz - Aft took on Megatron-
Optimus! Jazz is…
:Prime… Now, we need you! :
Further Seems Forever – 'Make it a Part'
Her life was sedate; she went about her days, to work, home, groceries, cleaning… Petra spent so much time blocking out her memories and her life with her ex-husband that she never quite realized she had left a negative mark. Sometimes her coworkers dragged her out for a few drinks, coaxed her to the station parties. She saw the vibrancy in their lives; the colors in their relationships, the fire in Jo and Erin that made her life poured into her work seem monochrome. Black and white.
Huddled in a ball in a comfy chair of a bookstore after her shift ended, she glanced up at someone politely clearing his throat.
“Reconciliation,” he drawled, islands and warmth coloring his accent. “Sounds like ah good book.” Creamy mocha complexion, sparkling brown eyes dancing above a silver pair of sunglasses pulled down his nose, dark jeans countered with a blue and red tie. He swirled the coffee in his hand, “Seema lil chilled, may Ah treatcha to a drink?”
Robbie Robertson – 'Shine your Light'
Jo couldn’t help the whimper. She did have every right to complain, with the bruise and welt on her flank the size of a grapefruit. Even so, she tried to bite back the next, unable to help but consider it a sign of weakness.
It had begun as a simple traffic stop.
Two idiots. Too fast. Probably too much booze.
She’d pulled out behind them and flicked lights and siren. They did pull over, but it almost took just a few moments too long. Taking the time to let them stew; run the plates and radio the information in, a brief back and forth with Reba before clicking the radio back onto the center console.
The two were glancing back at her and talking quickly with each other. The detective’s hackles went up, idly unclipping her weapon and setting her thumb over the safety as she approached the vehicle. Great, the morons probably had an open container, or a bag of pot and were getting antsy. Just what she wanted to deal with in the last hour of her shift…
“License and registration, please.” Johanna ordered, looking over the interior of the sports car.
The driver returned her gaze, but the other was fidgeting and peering anywhere but at her. When the passenger reached for the glove compartment, they hissed at each other.
“Is there a problem?”
“Nah, nah. Here. …Miss.”
Johanna didn’t huff, but it was obvious he’d almost said something much more colorful. Sexist bastard. She took the ID and the crumpled paperwork, thumbing the corner she was almost sure it was a fake license. “You know you were going a bit fast, back there?”
“No, I didn’t see a limit sign no where.”
Glancing at the back of the most recent sign, not a hundred yards back, she nodded. “I’ll be a minute with these.”
Trust your gut. Her father had always said, ‘Trust yer damn gut.’
As Johanna was walking back to her cruiser, she kept her right hand on her weapon. Her other hand clicked the walkie at her shoulder. “Control, come in. Reba, need you to run a check. Driver’s ID 84, 7 80-” Then she heard the crack; time slowed, training kicking in and it seemed like an eternity for her to tense. Draw sidearm, crouch, turn, flank the cruiser, return fire, call for back up…
But that didn’t happen. She felt like she’d been loosed from a slingshot, jolting forward and falling to her knees. The scream of tires behind her, the smell of burning rubber. Burning, pain. Pain? Slingshot. Shot. They’d taken a shot. She’d taken a shot. It hurt. The sound of the car faded at her back. Back. Shot in the back.
Like watching it happen. She pulled her pistol from the holster, pivoted on her knees and leaned against the front quarterpanel of her cruiser, then emptied three shots at the retreating car. There was at least one reassuring clank of metal meeting metal.
Breathe.
It had been less than seconds. Johanna had to force herself to breathe again. It hurt to. But breathing is important, keep doing it anyway.
Call for backup.
“Shots fired,” she gasped into the walkie. “Suspect fleeing the scene. Requesting backup and medical.”
“Officer 312, report,” Reba called. The 911 operator began coordinating the other members of the house rolling out.
“Immediate assistance…” Johanna replied shakily, securing her weapon and leaning against the metal of the vehicle. She was terrified to touch her back, the blinding throb burning low above her hip. “Officer down…” Jo just cradled her head against the car with her arm, not wanting to feel her hand come away wet if the bullet had missed her vest.
“Ambulance en route, 312. Jo, Johanna, hold on.”
The ebony-haired woman could only chuckle, Reba of all people breaking radio protocol, but stopped when that pierced fresh agony up her spine.
She let herself slip into a hazy world, the traffic seemed to fade, just the sound of her forcing herself to breathe and her pounding heartbeat.
There were faint sirens. They got louder, she heard the bleep of cruisers race by, then the wail of an ambulance stop beside her. Voices spoke, took her pulse, told her to move, shined lights in her eyes, eased her onto a gurney. The bump of being loaded into the rig made her see stars. Only then, they removed her shirt and vest.
She didn’t feel blood pool as the clothes came away, but when someone touched her it took everything not to scream or be sick. Or both.
“The Kevlar caught it, still should get her checked out. CAT scan in case it damaged the kidney or her hip bone. Start a morphine…”
Morphine, painkillers were her friend.
The rig doors closed, completing the cottony cocoon that the meds were quickly beginning. Things stayed in the fuzzy dreamlike place for being brought into the hospital, there she was stripped the rest of the way from her uniform, poked and prodded and scanned. More familiar voices drifted in.
“All considered, she was very, very lucky. A matter of inches. We just want to keep her overnight in case of a slow internal bleed or complications.”
When the drugs started to wear off, and things came back into focus, she was in one of those stupid hospital gowns in a private room. There was an IV in her arm and an ice pack on her hip. Ophelia being present she could understand, the concern evident on her face. The twins flanked her bed, Sean reached and brushed black hair from her brow in a show of support. Reba was there as well, held tightly in Fernado’s arms. Jo croaked a ‘thanks’ to her and the other woman nodded. Petra stood quietly at the foot of the bed, peering at Jamie. Johanna hoped that whatever he was working on was not a get-well-present. The only part that she could not understand, determined that it had to be the morphine, was why Erin was glaring at her like she was furious.
She nodded as people spoke (hopefully in the right places), hoped that stabbing at the painkiller button on her IV was not too obvious, and winced each time she tried to roll over.
Quietly the thought wormed through her mind that they could have just as easily been standing around her coffin as her bed.
As the crowd started drifting off, the Detective wanted to beg them to stay, not to leave her alone. Then the nurse came to shoo the visitors away with authority, to leave her to aches and the might-have-beens that require the visits with the county shrink before she can be returned to full, active duty. A few final goodbyes and she heard the door close.
When Jo tried to roll over the whimpers started escaping from her throat. The first was bad enough, the others fast on its heels felt like they had claws. She hurt, she was badly shaken, she was terrified that maybe she couldn’t return to work, and she was alone. The earliest that Heath could possibly arrive would be the morning. Johanna closed her eyes and tried to let the drugs drag her back to sleep.
A weight settled on the edge of the bed and she jumped, hissing in renewed pain. Jo opened her eyes to see red hair, Erin wrapped her arms around the detective’s shoulders.
“I don’t need to say it.”
“I- I could have died.”
“Or the possible internal hemorrhaging, kidney damage, nerve damage…” When Jo trembled, the paramedic stopped. “You’re fine. You will be fine, it’s just a precaution."
The wall broke and she started crying, the pain from shaking and gasping adding to her grief. Erin simply held the Police officer until she finally collapsed to sleep.
