calliopes_muse: (Default)
Title: Just the Three of Us
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: JJ/Emily (um, who else?)
Rating:  PG
Archive:  Yeah, I guess so
Warning: Not beta'd
A/N:  This is my first foray into CM femslash, and I'm kind of freaked because JJ & Em are kind of an intimidating pair.  I don't know why, but it's like I'm afraid I'll screw up something.  Plus, I've only seen a few eps and read lots of fanfic so if I mess up the characterization keep that in mind.
A/N2:  The idea for this popped into my head because of the speculation that TPTB at CBS will write in AJ's pregnancy, and I just couldn't have potential Reid-as-daddy stories out there without some kind of counter.  The timeline may be a bit funky too, but my muse is insisting that I get this out there.


When JJ had innocently mentioned to Emily on the plane that she'd be great with kids, she had no idea that she'd be looking at the mechanism in her hand with the glaring blue plus sign.

"Em!!!!!  Honey!!!!"  Emily came crashing through the bathroom door after waiting impatiently, pacing outside the door.

"Well?"

JJ turned, trying to fake her lover into thinking it was negative...again, but she couldn't hold it and looked up at her with bright blue eyes, close to spilling over with tears.  She bit down on the corner of her bottom lip to stop from crying as she held it out to Emily.

"Oh my god," Emily stared disbelieving at the blue plus sign, before the tears came, then the screaming.

"Oh my god!  Oh my god!  Oh my god!"  Her arms waved in front of her on the verge of freaking out, but getting herself together on the third "oh my god," she ran for JJ and grabbed her up in a bear hug, spinning her around the bathroom.  The "oh my gods" eventually subsided as she eased JJ back onto her feet, a tad wobblier than before.

"I love you so much, JJ.  You're going to be a great mom."

"We both are," the kiss was gentle and tender, a promise sealing a committment made only a year ago. 

(ONE MONTH LATER) 

JJ came stumbling out of the bathroom stall at the BAU looking deathly pale.  The stacks of pictures of dismembered and decomposing bodies on her desk didn't help settle her stomach this morning.  More and more lately, it was taking very little to set her tender stomach off.  She leaned over the sink to splash cold water on her face when Garcia came dancing through the door to a tune only she could hear, her pink hair bobbing along to the beat.  She stopped cold at seeing JJ.

"Jesus, honey, you look like hell!  Whatever it is you've got, I don't want it."

"Don't worry, you won't get it," JJ muttered a little louder than she planned to.

"Oh good, I'm glad it's not cont...," Garcia had her hand on the stall door when she slowly turned around and narrowed her eyes at JJ.

"Shit," JJ mumbled softer this time, realizing her mistake.

"Spill it, Jureau," Garcia crossed her arms, indicating that she wasn't budging until she got the full scoop.  JJ knew her friend better than to fight the inevitable.

Sighing, JJ turned to Garcia, "I'm pregnant."

Garcia started waving her arms frantically around, "Oh my god!!!  Oh my god! Oh my god!"

"What is so unbelieveable about me being pregnant that everyone reacts this way?"  JJ threw her hands up in the air.  The comment got her a hard smack on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"Everyone?  Who the hell else knows?  I'm supposed to be your friend and you didn't bother to tell me."

"You know now!"

"That's not the point and you know it!"  Then the inquisitive part of Garcia kicked in, "Hey, wait a minute!  Who's the daddy?"

JJ looked at her friend with a raised eyebrow, "Oh, now don't go all sexist on me, Garcia.  Since when does there have to be a daddy involved?"

Garcia started pacing, trying to figure out the mystery, "I know.  It's Hotch, right?  That's why his wife left him, isn't?  JJ, how could you?!"

"No!!!  It's not Hotch.  For crying out loud, Penelope, he's our boss!"

"Reid?"

"EW!  Please!"

Then Garcia turned on her with blood in her eyes, "Oh, you better not tell me it's Morgan because if it is, girl, we are on!"

"It's not Morgan!!!"

Garcia threw her hands up in the air, baffled, "Then who the hell is it?"  Garcia wasn't even talking to JJ anymore.  She was standing, shaking her head with her hands on her hips in deep thought.  JJ braced herself for what she knew was coming.  Garcia's mouth fell open long before any sound came from it.

"Emily?!"  Garcia squeaked, but was considerate enough to wait to comment further until JJ smirked and looked down at her feet, "No freakin' way!!!  Oh my god!!  Oh my god!  Oh..."

"Would you PLEASE stop saying 'oh my god'?"

"When...why...how...?"  Garcia found herself fumbling unable to complete a single question.  There was so much she wanted to ask her friend, but she was completely caught off guard and stumped.  Until something else hit her...so she hit JJ on the arm, again, and in the same spot as payback.

"Ow!  Would you stop hitting me?  I am pregnant, you know!"

"How long have you and Emily been together?"  Garcia crossed her arms.  To think that JJ kept something so important from her and worst that she didn't even notice anything was going on, really irked her.

"About a year."

"Were you ever going to tell me?  Your supposed best friend?"

JJ reached and took Garcia's hand, "Of course!  We just wanted to make sure it was going to last before we told anyone.  If it didn't, we didn't want any of the team to feel weird around us or think they had to take sides."

"Well, okay then."

"Forgive me?"

"I guess," she paused for effect, just to make JJ squirm, before letting her off the hook and taking her into a hug, "Yes, of course!  I'm so happy for you and Emily.  You're both going to make great moms.  By the way, have you told Hotch yet?"

"Oh, hell no!  I still have a month or two before I even start showing.  I'll worry about that then."

The two women exited the bathroom smiling and laughing.  JJ felt better than she had in a while with two secrets lifted, until she saw Emily round the corner.

The mischief maker in Garcia couldn't help herself, "Way to go, stud!"

Garcia scampered off around the corner to the sound of Emily's voice, "Jennifer!  What did you tell her?"
calliopes_muse: (Default)

Facing the Unknown, part 2

Fandom:  The Sarah Connor Chronicles

Pairing:  Sarah/Cameron

Archive:  P&P most definitely, others ask

Rating:  R\NC-17

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  They belong to richer people than me.

Warning:  Not beta’d.

Author Note:  For those who wanted to know what happened next, here you go.  This is my first shot at true, honest to goodness/badness smut. 

 

I was on my feet in seconds, propelled by a force I didn’t comprehend.  I stood behind her close enough to smell the soft scent of the lavender shampoo she uses and paced my breathing to her own.  It all seemed so ordinary.  She takes in oxygen like us, eats potato chips like us, and washes her hair just like us.  I even caught the hint of sweat on her skin once after we chased a terminator through the streets. 

 

I’m amazed and in awe of the creature before me.  There’s something incredibly disconcerting about her normalcy, and my reaction to her.  She watches and learns from us.  The other day I kissed John goodbye and jokingly told her not to kiss me.  I could see the question in her eyes.  She wanted to.  She wanted to do what we do, what we take for granted.  She wanted to kiss me and I wanted her to, but for very different reasons.  I couldn’t let it happen then, but today is a different day.

 

My shaking fingers barely brush the skin of her forearm.  This movement, this chance I’m taking, could get me killed.  I know nothing of her or how she’ll respond.  To what extent has she been programmed to act human?  And I pray it’s not an act.  The slow and unwavering consistency of oxygen intake hesitates for a flicker of a beat and I have my answer.  Smirking, I press on feeling uncharacteristically reckless, easing the curves of my body closer to match hers until I’m nuzzling at her neck.

 

She hasn’t said a word, but her head leans slightly allowing me better access to her neck.  Surprised she’s responding, I wonder for a moment if all of her feels this real.  If I slip my hand past the waist of her jeans, what will I find?  My head spins with the possibility.  In her first real noticeable movement, I feel her hand slip over my own as I finger the seam of her jeans. 

 

“Do you want to know what it’s like to be human, Cameron?” I lick the indention behind her ear.

 

“Yes,” she’s breathless, pressing my hand closer to her body, and I find myself coming undone.

 

Quickly, I spin her around and push her hard against the wall.  She eyes me curiously and it only makes me want to fuck her ruthlessly.

 

“Is this how humans, what’s it called, make love?”  A glint of tenderness passes across her face.  I shake my head, leaning in close to her ear.

 

“No, this is how humans fuck.  Making love comes later,” I bite down hard on her neck, drawing a hiss from her, pleased that she feels the sensation.  I yank her shirt from the confines of her jeans, ripping it up the middle.  Her breasts are heaving and exposed, perfect.  Her eyes fluttering closed, push me over the edge.  Unsnapping the button of her jeans, I push my hand in, sighing with relief to feel the tickle of curly hair and telltale sign of arousal.

 

Cameron’s head falls back against the wall, the corner of her lip curving almost imperceptibly.  Shocked but pleased by the revelation, I lean in close, teasing her opening with the tip of my finger, drawing a deep sigh and a full blown smile from her.

 

“You sneak!  You knew all along.”

 

Her hand snakes up my neck, pulling me in closer, “I like to watch you squirm.”  The kiss came quick, raw and needy.  She tasted sweet like strawberries and I fall deeper into her mouth as my finger mimics the movement of my tongue.  The force of needing her inside hits me full force.  With my free hand, I undo my pants and grab her hand from around my neck.

 

“Fuck me, Cameron…please,” the sensation of being filled makes my legs give out.  I lean into her, thankful for her strength and solidity.  For long moments, we bask in the simple sensation of warmth, wetness, and flesh - touching and feeling connected to something we couldn’t yet imagine. 

 

“Let go, Sarah,” three softly spoken words, laden with new emotion, was all it took.  I growled into her shoulder, pushing deeper into her with my last reserve of strength, intent on having her join me.  She quivers and I feel her grab my forearm, careful not to squeeze too hard.

 

I think about the life I never got to live - quiet, ordinary suburbia with a white picket fence and a dog.  This unknown future, wrapped up in the arms and eyes of this woman-machine, has wiped away my chances for ordinary, and that’s no longer a bad thing.

calliopes_muse: (Default)

Title:  Facing the Unknown

Fandom:  The Sarah Connor Chronicles

Pairing:  Sarah/Cameron

Archive:  P&P, others ask

Rating:  PG

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  They belong to richer people than me.

Warning:  Not beta’d.

Author Note:  I’ve seen the first two eps and have completely fallen in love with this show.  It does what I had hoped The Bionic Woman would do but didn’t.  Two ass-kickin’ women …what more could my femslashy little heart wish for? ;)


 

I watch her standing by the window, still as stone, looking for the smallest hint of danger, watching out for us.  Cameron, the terminator, is our protector and the only hope John and I have of stopping Skynet.  I have no choice but to trust her, but I know so little about her.

 

In glimpses, I’ve caught bits and pieces of her abilities.  She has yet to tell us what model she is and what she’s capable of.  All I can do is trust this woman…machine with our lives.  I have to deliberately remind myself that she’s a machine.  It’s so easy to forget until I see her in action.

 

When she stitched up my shoulder, I forgot that she was a machine.  Against my better judgment, I let down the walls I had been building for years.  Her fingers were gentle, barely grazing my pained and heated skin, sending unbidden shivers through me that settled in my belly.  I tried to slow down my breathing and bring my heart rate back to normal, but it was no use.  Thinking back on it, I’m sure she detected all of it, even the scent of my arousal.

 

I’m sure she can read, even across the room, my increased breathing and heartbeat.  I’m shocked to realize I feel this way about a terminator.  I’ve hated them all for so long for what they’ve done to John and I and how they’ve destroyed our lives and our world.  I can’t hate her though.

 

Watching her standing there stoically and unmoving, I fight the desire to walk up behind her and run my fingers over her skin, which is surprisingly soft and warm.  Will she feel the shiver in the pit of her stomach like I felt?  Will the hair on her arms stand on end?  Will my lips on her neck and a soft nip to her skin cause her to fall back in my arms?  Will she feel anything like I feel when she touches me?

 

I don’t know, but I have to find out.

calliopes_muse: (Default)
After watching both of these show, I can't help but make a few femslashy comments about them.

First of all, I had no idea that Cashmere Mafia would have a lesbian storyline.  For those who don't know, the character Caitlin (OMG, sexy in a cute kind of way!), which I got the impression is the group slut, has a thing for a woman, and The Powers That Be actually had them kiss in the first episode!!!  Holy crap, I didn't know what to do with myself.  Of course, there's the obligatory "I don't know what I am" spiel coming from Caitlin.  However, I have to say that I liked the nonchalance the expressed in "outing" herself to her friends.  It was a "I like a woman, so what?" kind of attitude.  The pessimist in me is reluctant to get too excited about it.  There have been far too many times where a storyline had potential only to be snatched out from under us, right?  With the writer's strike and now writer's being fired, there's not much chance the storyline much less the shows will advance very far.

For us femslash writers though, we can kick a dead horse until it becomes glue.  We'll get all out of it that we can.  Hell, we'll write the shows that should have been produced all along!

Second, The Sarah Connor Chronicles is my new addiction.  My GAWD, I love this show!  This is exactly what The Bionic Woman should have been and failed to be (don't get me started on BW and its utter lack of...well, everything).  Lena Headey is incredibly hot as Sarah Connor!  Summer Glau (Cameron) is the badass protective terminator and she's one sexy machine!  There are moments between these two that I wonder about them.  Besides, it does my heart good to see two women, even if one is a machine, kicking ass side-by-side and running the show.  Reminds me of another female pair of asskickers. ;)
calliopes_muse: (Default)

Title: Mutual Need

Rating: PG

Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy (WMC)

Spoilers: I couldn’t let the moment go at the end of the last episode “FBI Guy.”  The look on Cindy’s face was so intense and Lindsay looked so lost that I felt like something had to happen after that.

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Wish they were…at least Cindy anyway.

Archive:  Ralst of course, as always.  Others with permission, if you ask nicely.

Unbeta’d…read at your own risk.

 

Mutual Need

By Calliope

 

Cindy stood by the window in Lindsay’s living room.  Jill and Claire were saying their goodbyes while she pretended to be finishing her drink.  She couldn’t bring herself to leave, not yet.  She had never seen Lindsay – strong, tougher-than-nails Lindsay – show any weakness or fear.  Tonight, when they were all told the news of the Kiss Me Not killer, she looked like a child lost in the mall – scared, alone, and vulnerable.  It wasn’t the woman she had fallen for, but she couldn’t help but love this version of Lindsay even more. 

 

Lindsay 2.0 made Cindy feel something deeper, more intense.  It was an emotion that had never been elicited from her by anyone before – protectiveness.  Her intimidating, fearless cop friend had spent her life looking out for everyone except herself.  She was even willing to let this monster destroy her if necessary as long as it stopped him from hurting anyone else.  But whoever looked out for Lindsay?  And not in a fatherly way like when Tom hid her away.  But in a way that set her free and made her safe to let her guard down.

 

She read it all in Lindsay’s body language.  The way she slumped down in the oversized leather chair, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around own body as if she was trying to fight a chill that only she could perceive.  It made sense now why Lindsay shut them out.  It wasn’t just a way to protect her friends, but also herself. 

 

It wasn’t until she felt the silky strands of ebony hair against her fingers did she realize that she was reaching out to Lindsay.  She stopped before she made the mistake of waking her.  This was too much and not what Lindsay needed right now.  She made a move to grab her purse and leave.

 

“Don’t stop,” long fingers reached out and grabbed her wrist.  She was pulled around to the front of the chair, where she could stand between Lindsay’s long, jean clad thighs.  Cindy held it together until she looked up into warm eyes.  The tears welled up in her own eyes and suddenly she was choking back sobs.

 

Images flashed in her mind of what she had seen the Kiss Me Not killer do to his victims and she saw Lindsay’s beautiful face mangled, her rich dark eyes cold with death, the lips she had dreamed of kissing sealed shut for eternity.  She struggled against the arms circling her, heard her voice raw with fear as Lindsay tried to calm her.

 

“I can’t lose you,” Cindy gasped out between sobs. 

 

“I’m not going anywhere.  I promise,” fingers stroked slow and steady through her hair, until her breathing leveled out and the tears subsided.  Cindy nestled her cheek against the warm skin of Lindsay’s exposed chest.  Her arms wrapped loosely around the taller woman’s waist while her hands started to trace invisible lines in random patterns along her back.  She reveled for a moment in the sensation before it hit her that she had fallen apart in her friend’s arms.  So much for being strong for Lindsay, she chided her own weakness.

 

It was a fleeting thought that disappeared like ether when she felt a reciprocated touch of a hand caressing the base of her neck sending tingles down into her toes.  Cindy understood that being strong and fearless took many different forms because it took everything she had not to crumble into a million pieces from the sensations a mere touch from Lindsay elicited from her body.

 

Little did she know that at that very moment Lindsay felt ten feet tall and invincible.  She needed Cindy to need her, tonight more than ever.

calliopes_muse: (Default)
Oh my, let me count out the reasons!

If you look at the shows getting so much attention from the femslash community these days (Women's Murder Club, Criminal Minds, Bionic Woman, etc), you'll notice some striking similarities:  tough, strong women that are quite feminine in appearance but boarder on androgynous in their mannerisms.  The show writers will throw in a CQW (cute guy of the week) to appease the hetero audience members but play up the "eyeshagging" between the ladies to keep the queer girls hanging on.

In spite of the fact that it is now 2008, gay folks are still looking for kernels of anything gay on TV shows.  Go to say WMC's message board and suggest the utter insanity of there possibly being a lesbian in a group of female crimefighters living in San Francisco (queers? in San Fran? never heard of such a thing), and you'll be soundly and unanimously shot down.  A lesbian love interest on a show will be the death of the show according to these folks, but they'll be the first to buy a Girl's Gone Wild video for a glimpse of girl-on-girl action.  

There's also a collective cry from the hetero viewers about why we simply MUST make everything gay.  Well, when everything is straight, sometimes you need to do what's necessary to save your mind from frazzeling into a heap of mindless goo.  Seriously, everything in our world is SOOOO straight!  Over the holidays, I watched mind-numbing after mind-numbing show about "family" and yet none reflected MY family.  Every commercial, every show, every event, every outing, EVERYTHING is hetero!!!!

That's where Femslash fanfiction comes in.  Thank God for FEMSLASH!!!!  I think of femslash as a way of getting even of sorts.  Let 'em have their straight San Fran crime fighters.  We'll give these shows the spice they need and have them screaming like banshees with each other in the bedroom (and numerous other places).  They'll be doing things that wouldn't even be shown on the L Word (the unedited director's cut, at that!).  

This is similar to another show from years back (drum roll please):  Xena.   A look, a touch, a quipped line and suddenly the fanfic writers let out a collective *squee* of delight.  The tap, tap, tap of keyboards could be heard around the world. :)

The Lindsay/Cindy interplay on WMC has been likened to the delicate tension between Xena and Gabrielle.  Come on, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!  Both have an older, more sophisticated woman taking a shine to a younger, more naive woman.  Cindy follows Lindsay all over, insisting that Lindsay needs her, much like Gabrielle did.  Cindy is ALWAYS getting into trouble that Lindsay has to get her out of.  Lindsay is definitely the dark, brooding, emotionally distant type that pushes Cindy away (or tries to) in order to protect herself from getting hurt.  Cindy is so cute that she's annoying, just sugar sweet and too good to be true.  AND she's a talker...like our lovely Gabrielle.  I tell ya, ABC could have a good thing here if they don't blow it.

BUT, they probably will blow it.  If they listen to the idiocy on those message boards, they probably won't follow the tried and true methods discovered through Xena.  The producers and writers could easily have the best of both worlds and both sets of viewers, but they'll probably give in to fear.

This all makes me wonder one thing:  Xena gave us the first real femslashable story and created an underworld of fabulous writing, correct?  After years of fans, especially lesbian fans, hounding Xena's producers and writers for a love story to the point that we got it (in a manner of speaking), and after years of creating wonderful fanfiction, did we unknowingly acquiesce the world of TV to the hetero viewers?  In other words, did our own creativity to design a world we understand and would like to live in actually make us less likely to challenge the PTB (powers that be) for storylines that represent us?  

Whatever the answer, LONG LIVE FEMSLASH!!! 
calliopes_muse: (Default)
Title: At Wit's End
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy (WMC)
Spoilers: Nah, just a follow up to all the eyeshagging in "To Drag and to Hold"
Disclaimer:  Unfortunately, not mine.  If they were, this would SOOOO happen!
Archive:  Only with permission.
Author's Note:  This is copyrighted.  If you steal it or any of my other stories, I'll sic Xena and Gabrielle on you!
Thanks to [personal profile] em for the beta (you were right, it wasn't painful), to whoever made the comment about these two being alone in an interrogation room thanks for the inspiration, and Ralst for the New Year's prompt.
Submitted for the 72 hour challenge.

At Wit's End
By Calliope

 

It was too much to take!  Cindy had reached her wit's end.  She had had enough of Lindsay feeling sorry for herself.  Tom was not even close to being good for her and it hurt to watch this dark, complicated, beautiful woman drown her sorrows in a bottle.  She should be happy and laughing, not falling off a stool in some seedy joint.  So, she did what any decent friend would do.  She went into the bar and dragged Lindsay out to go to the station.  If anything could get her mind off of things, it would be work.  

"It's freakin' New Year's Eve!  Can't people just TRY not to kill each other when they're celebrating?!"  The whiskey and beer had gone to Lindsay's head.  She stumbled into the interrogation room causing the drunken frat boy seated at the table to jump in alarm.  "What the fuck are you looking at?!"

Taking a deep breath, Cindy pushed her hair back before leaning over to the frightened guard to whisper in his ear.  Quickly he grabbed the boy by the arm and left the room in relief.  When the door closed behind her, the petite woman turned to Lindsay, "So...just how drunk are you?"  Lindsay pushed her forehead off the wall and rolled to the side.  Cindy mused that it was probably the only thing keeping the dark-haired woman from slipping into inebriated oblivion.

"I'm drunk enough."

"Enough for what?"  Cindy stepped closer, taking advantage of Lindsay's closed eyes to drink in every curve of the incredibly sexy woman in front of her.  For her, there was no stronger aphrodisiac than Lindsay.  She felt lightheaded merely being in her presence and it was getting harder to deny.

"Please, Cindy, stop looking at me that way," the hushed whisper from Lindsay gripped Cindy's heart.  Without even looking up, she knew those gorgeous eyes would border between fear and desire.  

"What way is that?"  She ran her fingers along the edge of the black leather jacket.  Amazed that she would dare to be this bold, she watched her own shaking hands as they got closer to the barely exposed midriff.  Both women let go of the breath they had been holding when the redhead finally connected skin-to-skin.

"Like you want me to do this."

Long fingers drifted up into red tresses gripping in passion and desperation before tilting Cindy's head back.  In spite of being eternally curious to a fault, the smaller woman couldn't keep her eyes open in order to memorize every moment of this kiss.  No matter what happened tomorrow when Lindsay sobered up, she wanted to remember every detail - her soft skin, gentle lips, and warm tongue sweet with the taste of liquor.  

Outside, the noise of celebration was barely registering.  It was midnight on New Year's Eve.  Wrapping her arms around the waist of the raven beauty, Cindy smiled into the kiss.  She'll have to remember to pay the kid well for his great acting and the guard for holding the interrogation room for her.  Now, this is the way to ring in the New Year.

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