Meme!

[nineveh_uk]

Yet again I have come back from holiday and caught a cold. So to entertain me between watching German historical drama (Nordwand, very good. Now I want to go to Grindelwald again and catch a cold there) and Yes, Minister, I have a meme courtesy of fallingtowers.

Pick a trope from this list and provide a fandom/pairing that I'm familiar with, and I'll tell you something about the story I'd write for that combination (i.e. write a snippet from the story or write not!fic or tell you the title and summary for the story I would write).

1. genderswap
2. bodyswap
3. drunk!fic
4. huddling for warmth
5. pretending to be married
6. what-if AU
7. amnesia
8. cross-dressing
9. forced to share a bed
10. truth or dare
11. historical AU
12. accidental-baby-acquisition
14. telepathy
15. high School / college AU

(I have cut out 13. apocalypse fic, not being in the mood.)

Comments

[clanwilliam]

14. Chalet School, Mary Lou Trelawney and Jo Maynard.

[nineveh_uk]

Obviously this would be called "The Golden Voice". Slightly sinister, I think.

Summary: Joey Maynard's life was bound up with the Chalet School - until she had children and found herself on the sidelines. But Joey has a hidden talent, one her sister and the headmistresses have never known. She is a telepath. When Mary-Lou Trelawny moves in next door, she presents Joey with an unforseen opportunity to bend the school to her will, and Mary-Lou is only too keen to co-operate.

[coughingbear]

2. bodyswap DLS - I was thinking Bunter/Saint George, but anyone/Bunter has got to be good!

[fallingtowers.livejournal.com]

I'd opt for a Jane Austen high school AU, but Clueless already did that . :) So, I'd like to see someone from Austen's novels crossdressing. Or a historical AU with people from Barrayar. Cross-dressing optional. It's your pick!

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

Emma reflected with some satisfaction that Mr John Knightley must be deeply in love with her sister, even more satisfaction than the knowledge of her own promotion of the match. Nothing other than the deepest affection could surely have induced him to accept the part of the Dame in Isabella's scheme to put on the pantomime Aladdin for the poor village children of the area. Mr Wodehouse had been concerned. Mr John Knightley was unused to skirts. He might catch a chill, or trip. Mr John Knightley must not trip. Had not Mr Crabtree died of a trip only last year? Isabella, always heedful of her father's concerns might have come close to calling all off, but her betrothed was made of sterner stuff.

'I shall not trip, sir. Observe, my skirts are shorter than a lady would usually wear to avoid such an incident, and I assure you that the heels are only a very little higher than those of my boots.'

Seeing him capering in wig and skirts under the fond eye of Isabella, in shockingly short tunic and stockings as the principal boy, Emma could only reflect that surely it must be a most successful marriage indeed.

NB. It's too early for pantomime in its modern form, but why let fact get in the way of a good story?

[ankaret.livejournal.com]

Julian Mayverse, high school AU? (Hey, Felice probably already qualifies as the mean quarterback)

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

Clearly this is a high school AU in the classic form. A bunch of new kids, a bit nerdy, a bit weird, a bit generally likely to be the underdog (lesbian loner, lesbian sporty girl, total nutcase, guy with a past) start the new semester at Pliocene High. Having been compelled to take part in an orientation programme together to learn practical study skills, they all resolve to get rid of one another asap, and hope for new beginnings in a new environment, free from their past traumas. It's just a pity that there are so many new traumas awaiting them.

Ed. Alternative version - Rogi Remillard runs away with a female friend who went wrong at convent school and pretends to be married to her to prevent her evil father from forcing her to have an abortion.

[rosathome.livejournal.com]

12. Bunter/St. George.

[azdak.livejournal.com]

Oh GOD! I can't look.

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

Ooh! This is going to require thought.

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

A snippet from The Intriguing Case of the Unexpected Infant.

‘I’m telling you, it isn’t mine!’

Bunter looked sceptical.

‘Honestly,’ protested Lord Saint-George. ‘I know it’s not completely implausible, but I have got a sense of self-preservation. Besides, I’m no expert, but this one looks pretty new to me. And what is that?’

‘I believe it is the umbilical stump, my lord.’

‘So this one’s new, right?. Nine months ago – and ten months ago and eight months ago - I was in America. It can’t be possibly mine. Come to that where were you nine months ago.

‘In France,’ said Bunter chillingly, ‘with his lordship and her ladyship.’

‘Hmm. So that rules him out, too. Good thing really, it’d be a bit tough on Aunt Harriet, all things considered. Spare me the affronted valet look, it’s not like he hasn’t been around a bit in time. Let’s have a look at the letter again.’

Bunter produced a neatly folded letter and envelope.

Please take care of my baby. Its name is Margaret. I know that I have not been a good girl and deserve my shame, but your lordship was not to know, and I leave her with you knowing as how a gentleman like you will not hold the poor mite’s mother against her and will raise her decent and not put her in one of them horrible homes. May God bless your kindness.
‘And this was all that was with it?’

‘Yes, my lord. It was on tucked into the blanket containing the infant when I made the discovery.’

‘Sounds to me like she’s been reading too many cheap novels. Does anyone really talk like that these days – all shame and mites and things? I’ve never heard it.’

Bunter looked thoughtfully at the note.

‘Nor I , my lord. Moreover, I venture that any young person whose literary inclinations did lie in such a direction would hardly be likely to write them on paper costing 10 shillings for a dozen sheets.’

‘She might be a servant and have pinched it.’

‘It would have required considerable forethought. A servant in such a situation would have been dismissed some months ago.’

‘True enough. But – here – isn’t that the sort of make left by a cuff-link? It looks like my letters to Mother when I’ve had to stop and think about something tactful in the middle and leant on the paper.’

‘It is indeed my lord.’

‘A compliment about detective genius running in the family wouldn’t go amiss, you know. So we’ve got a baby, a bloke – possibly – trying to get rid of it. Maybe it’s an embarrassment to him, or maybe he wants to embarrass Uncle Peter. I don’t think Aunt Harriet would refuse to believe him if he denied responsibility even if he hadn’t been in France, but the bloke isn’t to know that.’

‘It is an intriguing hypothesis, my lord.’

‘Isn’t it? We’ve got six hours before Uncle Peter gets back. It’s not quite how I’d planned to spend them, but you never know, if we get it done quickly we might still have a bit of time for other things.'

[antisoppist.livejournal.com]

9. Patrick Merrick. Claudie.

[ankaret.livejournal.com]

I suppose that would be less traumatising than 'Patrick and Claudie accidentally acquire a baby'. At least from the baby's perspective.

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

It is some time since I read "Attic Term" and I don't think I could get the voices right, so it will need to be a summary. Right.

Patrick has once again got fed up with school for not thinking that he is special and marvellous enough, and has fallen out with Nicola as well after the apocryphal kiss under the stage proved him to be a spectacularly bad kisser. Therefore he runs away to France, claiming that he's going on a religious retreat, which he does except the monks also don't think him special enough* so he slopes off from that, too, and hitch-hikes back to Paris. On the way he ends up in a one-inn village and who should be meet in the street as he counts his feeble change before going in to see if he can get a room, but Claudie? She is surprisingly pleased to see him, and as his French has turned out to be nothing like as good as he assumed, books the room. Singular. There is, naturally, only one, and the landlady tells him not to be silly, he can't sleep in the bar on account of it having the drink in, and if he is so much of a gentleman as he makes out, then there's no reason he shouldn't share with the lady. Having moped dramatically upstairs after Claudie, prepared to defend his virtue to the satisfaction of his conscience but not far enough to fail to lose his virginity, she promptly gets into bed in flannel pyjamas, takes all the covers, and tells him that as he only approves if it is love or paid for, and anyway, surely a good catholic boy doesn't have any condoms and she needn't think he's getting anywhere without them, that she paid for the room, he can sleep in the armchair and by the way she has rung his mother. Claudie has a very good night's sleep, and Patrick chickens out of jumping out of the window.

*Can you tell that I am not Patrick's number one fan?

[caulkhead.livejournal.com]

Cabin Pressure - amnesia or surprise baby (there seem to be a lot of surprise babies all of a sudden, but it's a fandom where it could very easily work. Or not).

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

Surprise baby it is!

Martin: Arthur, what are you doing with that?"

Arthur: It's a baby!

Martin: I can see it's a baby. What are you doing with it? You know that passengers are strictly forbidden on the flight deck.

Arthur: I know. Only I found it in the galley and I wasn't sure what to do with it, and then I remembered that Douglas has a daughter so he must know what to do with babies, and it isn't as if he's needed to fly the place because you're always obsessive about Australia.

Martin: It isn't on the passenger list?

Arthur: No! That's what's so exciting. A surprise baby!

Martin: Arthur, think for a minute. Someone has smuggled a baby on to Gertie. Hasn't it occured to you to wonder what else they might have smuggled on? Maybe not so nice a surprise?

Douglas: I only hope they included some nappies, or it's going to be a very long flight to Sydney.

[madamedarque.livejournal.com]

1. Genderswap, Peter/Harriet. (Oh, dear.)

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

It's the night after a particularly Bohemian party. Harriet wakes feeling rather strange. With a shock she sees that there is a stranger's hand on the pillow next to her - a man's hand - and then, that it is her hand! Yes, Harriet has become Henry. It's a shock - how did it happen, how long will it last, what can she wear? But there is one silver lining - surely this will put Peter off for good?

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

The hour was late, the party raucous, and the drink terrible. Peter, steering clear of a bowl of punch that had all too evidently seen the attentions of a number of the sort of people who think there is nothing funnier than pouring an extra bottle of spirits into the fruit cup, leaned in a doorway with a glass of cheap whisky and swore than next time a case like this came his way he would leave it to Parker. He was just thinking that surely he had stayed long enough to establish his credentials when an entirely unexpected voice saluted him with almost equally expected words.

'Peter! Oh thank God. But what are you doing here?'

'Investigating. Come to that, what are you doing here? I didn't think this was quite your scene.'

'It isn't,' said Harriet, slumping against the wall beside him. 'I'm researching for a story. I got Jo Blake to bring me only he's vanished somewhere and I had some of that awful punch and I think I want to die.' She wiped a handkerchief limply across her forehead. 'Dearest Peter,' she finished, proving for once and for all that she was at least three sheets to the wind, 'I will love you for ever if only you'll call me a taxi.'

[bibliophile-bee.livejournal.com]

Harriet and Peter pretending to be married? Before they were married, obviously.

[adina-atl.livejournal.com]

Or after, pretending to be married to other people. Or pretending not to be married.

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

This one takes place during Harriet's European travels after Have His Carcase. She's in Berlin, gathering material for detective stories, when she stumbles on something-or-other nasty. She informs the police, who for once don't suspect her, but she realises uses the opportunity to set someone else up. She pursues it, realises that though no-one has said anything, and in the middle of having it heavily suggested to her that she ought to look in other directions for the good of her health, when suddenly,

'Peter! About time too, wherever did you get to? Officer, I don't believe that you know my husband, Lord Peter Wimsey.'

Peter is entirely coincidentally in Berlin for something to do with the Foreign Office and mistakenly but understandably trying to stop another war. He genuinely hadn't realised that Harriet was there, which she actually allows. Fortunately his presence calms things down on the threat front, but they then have to keep up the pretence at least for the rest of the evening and night during which they are followed and naturally therefore stumble into the trope of forced to share a bed. Peter naturally wants the armchair until Harriet points out that there are spy-holes and this is a bad idea, so they fake an argument and lie on opposite sides of what is fortunately a very large bed and don't get any sleep. Harriet leaves the next morning.

[littlered2.livejournal.com]

Vorkosigan saga, historical AU?

[littlered2.livejournal.com]

(Or, if you'd prefer, Wimseyfic, telepathy.)