[identity profile] dragonessasmith.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] fic_variations
Title: Until Proven
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dragonessasmith
Rating: T
[livejournal.com profile] fic_variations Prompt/Claim: Fashion // Matt
Spoilers: Vague end of S5
Warnings: Cajoling
Count: 6/10
Author's Notes: My though process for this goes something like: I wrote a Matt/Jordan thing couple months back that had a scarf. Scarves equal fashion, right? Matt/Jordan is awesome. Matt wouldn't put up with Jordan like Woody does. TPTB are probably gonna send Woody after her anyway. And thus, fashion. ^^



No amount of coffee could have prepared Captain Arthur Glass to walk into his office first thing in the morning and almost step on Matt Seely.

"Captain Glass! I-"

"Seely."

"Sir."

There was an awkward silence as he crossed the room, settling into his chair behind his desk. Nothing involving Seely ever went smoothly, but at least this way he felt slightly more forceful.

"Did I ask for you to come in here?"

"No sir."

"Are you in trouble?"

"No."

"Then what are you doing in my office at nine in the morning? Don't you have work or something?"

"That's kinda why I wanted to talk to you. You see, I...I want to request to head the Cavanaugh investigation sir."

And that sort of thing was why he always liked to be sitting with Matt. He liked to be...direct, he supposed was the word for it. Blunt. Obvious. Anyway...he shook his head, returning mentally to the topic at hand.

"You're not going out for Mr. Popularity anytime soon, are you Seely?"

"No sir."

"Then it's yours." Glass glanced up. "It's gonna be a PR nightmare."

"I know."

"Reporters, court cases, paperwork out the wazoo."

"With all due respect, I think my wazoo can handle it."

"And you think Woody's can't?"

"Kind of."

"I'll never be able to put you back on any morgue cases if she's found guilty, you know that."

"I'll consider it a bonus."

"Won't be able to send Woody either."

"There's still Lu."

"For now. Two thirds of my morgue connections, gone. Like that. Why shouldn't I just put someone who's never dealt with her before on it?"

"Because they've never dealt with Jordan before. She looks harmless until she's shoving an elbow in your gut and...look, Captain, I'm the closest thing to an impartial, involved party that we have." He squared his shoulders. "I'm the best man for the case, and you know it."

"I know." Glass nodded, taking another sip of coffee. "Which is why I already picked a fight with MacGruder to get Hoyt off the case and you on it."

"You did?"

"Yesterday night. Cost me a steak dinner and an wazoo-load of drinks." He leaned forward, beckoning Matt closer with his hand. "I trust you know how bad this can go."

"Yes sir."

"I'm counting on you to control, minimize, and simplify the situation, understand me?"

"Bring her back, don't ask any quesitons."

"Exactly. Just bring her back, and we'll let the DA's office sort it out. Oh, and Seely," Matt paused in the doorway as Glass continued. "Tempting as it may be, try not to shoot her if you don't absolutely have to."



---

Title: Super
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dragonessasmith
Rating: T
[livejournal.com profile] fic_variations Prompt/Claim: Fashion // Matt
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Futbol Americano
Count: 7/10
Author's Notes: This is what I do when I'm bored and watching the Super Bowl. XD And yeah, I started this hella days ago. But it's done now. Sorta.



"I don't even like football."

"Woody, please."

"You don't either. So why are we watching this?"

"I do too like football. Besides, it's what you do on Superbowl Sunday. You watch the Superbowl."

"Do you even know how to play football? Do you understand the rules?"

"I played a little in college. Intramural. Nothing big. You?"

"You had to play something in my town. I chose varsity baseball."

"Baseball? Wimp."

"What's wimpy about the great American pastime?"

"Nothing, I just prefer contact sports."

"Uh huh. Wait until you've been cleated sliding into third."

"Wait until you've been tackled by a guy who's nickname is Volvo."

"Volvo?"

"Square, sturdy, a little over three thousand pounds."

"So what was your nickname? Volkswagen?"

"Mouth."

"Mouth? That's attractive."

"I was the only guy on the team who could out-eat Volvo."

"So wait, who else was there besides you and Volvo?"

"Only other guys I remember are Silky-he always wore silk shirts, I think he dropped out though-oh, and Holy Water."

"Holy Water?"

"He was a theology major. We used to have him bless our water bottles before games."

"...I don't know whether to laugh or be offended."

"Always choose to laugh. You'll live longer."

"Deep stuff, Mr. Mouth."

"Thanks. I took a philosophy class one semester. Slept with the TA."

Woody blinked. "Thanks. I really needed to know that."

"You did. She's a lawyer now. Works for Walcott."

"What?"

Matt grinned, leaning back against the couch. "Just watch the game, Woods."



---

Title: Anger
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dragonessasmith
Rating: T
[livejournal.com profile] fic_variations Prompt/Claim: Fashion // Matt
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Road Trip
Count: 8/10
Author's Notes: For [livejournal.com profile] serialbathera, from a long time ago when we talked about Bug, anger management, and finger-painting. ^^



"It won't be that bad." Matt said, his fifth attempt at starting a conversation since they had left Boston.

"Yes it will." Bug countered, hoping he would drop it. He reached into the back seat, trying to fish his jacket out of his duffel bag without sending the rest of his clothes onto the floor of Matt’s car.

"It'll be like vacation almost. Or summer camp. Didn't you do camp stuff when you were a kid?"

"No."

"Really? No swimming in the lake, no arts and crafts, no finger painting, no smores?"

"None."

"Well...then it'll be a brand new fun experience for you."

"No it won't."

"Well then, it's only a week-"

"You should be going for more. Why do I even have to go to this ridiculous thing?"

"Let’s see. You made Lily cry." He pointed out matter-of-factly, switching into the far left lane. "You called her a bleeding heart liberal, and accused her of caring more about the tree than the logger it fell on."

Bug stared at him incredulously. "And you what? You grabbed Roz's ass!"

"You know?" He smacked the steering wheel. "You're right. I can't believe this. It’s not fair. I should get a medal of valor for touching Framus and coming away with all my limbs intact."

Bug quickly tried to change his snort of laughter into one of disgust. Apparently not fast enough, as Matt grinned at him.

"You know who should be coming on this thing with us? Lily. Shit. She nearly ripped my head off and beat me to death with it last week, remember?"

"Fine. Yes, I remember. I was standing right next to you, you know."

"Oh yes, I know. Who was it that decided to pick a fight when he was elbows-deep in some kid? Leaving me to defend the little sissy against Lily’s womanly scorn attack."

"Plus three against males."

“Plus one against transexuals.”

“Plus one and a half for hermaphrodites-” Bug stopped short all of a sudden.

What was he doing?

“Shouldn’t it be six for hermaphrodites?”

He was enjoying Matt's company.

He glanced out the window, suddenly preoccupied with the nonexistent car in their blind spot.



---

Title: Office Space
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dragonessasmith
Rating: T
[livejournal.com profile] fic_variations Prompt/Claim: Fashion // Matt
Spoilers: Last couple eps of S5
Warnings: Cussin'
Count: 9/10
Author's Notes: Desperation does strange things to my muse. XD



"I fucking hate you." Matt glanced around the room, taking six huge strides and ending up at the opposite wall. "You could fit my kitchen in this thing. I reallyhate you."

"Don't hate the player, hate the game." Woody grinned, leaning back in his chair.

"I hate you more now."

"Oh come on."

"I do. Really. I think I may need to smite you now, just for saying that. Jesus Woods, you may have an office as big as parts of my apartment, but I know I've got you beat on street cred, yo."

"Alright, we all know there's nothing worse than white boys acting ghetto, so you two cut it out." Lu grinned, walking in holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses. "Thought you might want to celebrate."

"Of course he does." Matt interrupted. "Wouldn't you want to celebrate this?"

"Well good, because I got some cookies too. They're in my car. I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

"See ya." Matt grinned, turning back to Woody as the door swung shut behind her. "So. How long you been sleeping with her?"

Woody did a double take. "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?" He tried and failed to shrug innocently, grinning as Woody glared at him.

"Don't even pretend like you don't know."

"She didn't knock."

"And from that you deduced a relationship?"

"Not quite." Matt grinned, picking up one of the glasses from the table and inspecting it at arm's length. "She only brought two. Damn, I really hate you now. I've been flirting with her since she got here."

"Well, obviously not very well."

"No, see, I was flirting well, as usual. She probably just doesn't have very high self esteem, and thought she was imagining my advances."

"I'm sure that's it."

"And I'm sure you're going to kill me if I'm still here when she gets back."

"Oh yeah."

"Remind me never to touch your desk again, alright Woods?"

"Leave now please."

"Don't have too much fun." He smirked, slipping out the door.



---

Title: Na Na Na Na Na-Na Na
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dragonessasmith
Rating: T
[livejournal.com profile] fic_variations Prompt/Claim: Fashion // Matt
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Reality(?)
Count: 10/10
Author's Notes: Yay for being done! XD I actually had the entire 'hot' conversation, ver batim, with my friend's drunk boyfriend in Tahoe last week.



"I wouldn't tell you this when I'm sober because I'd be way too fucking embarrassed, but you are actually very hot."

"...thank you." I managed to stammer out.

"I mean that as a compliment."

"I took it as one."

"Good." And with that, Matt passed out on the couch next to me, wrapping his arms around the pillow and holding on for dear life.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do. I mean, what's the ettiquite for when your drunk friend passes out while hitting on you? I'd have to send that one in to Dear Abby someday...but no. Focus, come on.

In the end, I draped a blanket over him, muted the TV, and spent the entire twenty minute walk home thinking about what had just happened.

Matt and I had been hanging out outside of work for about three months now. We'd gotten into the habit of getting drunk and watching movies with loads of explosions. Depending on the mood (and the alcohol), we'd either mock them loudly or watch with rapt attention, barely even blinking.

I tried to think back on how much he'd had to drink tonight, but the three beers I'd had were not helping matters any. I could vaguely remember two beers still on the table when I went to leave, but that didn't make any sense. I knew I had three, and that would mean that Matt had only drank one...and I know he's not that much of a lightweight.

Wait. I did recall seeing a shot glass in his sink. Maybe he was already drunk before I got there. I didn't see anything out, but knowing Matt and his preferences, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a half-empty bottle of tequila hidden somewhere in his apartment.

So if he was drunk...did he mean what he said? Did alcohol make him speak the truth, or just nonesense? Was he actually coming on to me, or was it whatever he'd injested that made me look better in his eyes?

Before I knew it, I was at my front door, no less confused and anxious than when I'd left.

"Nigel?"

I froze, key in hand. When I finally managed to recover slightly, I looked up at Bug's questioning face. Shit. Hadn't thought he'd be up still.

"You and Matt didn't finish the movie?"

"What makes you say that?"

"It's only been two hours. Knowing you two, you spent an hour getting drunk before you even started the tape. I wasn't expecting you for another two and a half hours, at least."

"Firstly, Bug, no one watches 'tapes' anymore. And secondly-" I paused.

"Well?"

"Secondly...tell me, Buggles," I smiled slightly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "What are your feelings on threesomes?"

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