Katerli

Because you asked, thank you for nudging the muse.
Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.

The team rescues Hitch from a very unfriendly German.
It's a tad out of sequence but that happens when I ramble...

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Written for the 'Get Harper laid' challange.
1,098 words
Rated PG, mostly implied.

Trance buys some chocolate to share with Harper and it has a strange effect on her.

 

( Chocolate Harper )

Original fic, kind of a journal of a sickly girl's life and dealing with doctors, hospitals and friends.
3,767 words

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I found this on an old, old floppy. Yet another of my snippets that may one day turn into something longer. It's kind of an addiction story.

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It's a ficlet about how scars fade but they don't heal.

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The beating seemed to last for days. He knew it couldn’t have been for more than a few hours, but it felt like forever. When one of his captors would tire, another would take his place. Hitchcock knew he had two choices. He could end the torture now, by telling Captain Weintraub what he wanted to hear or he could extend the pain and hope Sergeant Troy would find him. He knew Troy wouldn’t leave him here, he just hoped he had the courage to endure.

 

The German guards used the bamboo batons on his sides and his back. His skin was becoming a patchwork of colorful and painful bruises but as of yet, no more cuts.

Trying to avoid one of the strikes to his side, he twisted and screamed as his left shoulder dislocated. It didn't take much for him to slip into unconsciousness. One of the guards left and returned with Captain Weintraub. 

"Cut him down and wait until he regains consciousness then start again." He ordered the soldiers.

 

~*~

 

Troy unfolded the map he’d stolen from Col Harmon’s office. Jabbing a finger on it, he’d nearly torn a hole in the sheet. “Here,” he growled, “That’s where the mission file said they’d be.”

Cotton shook his head, “This dinky, rat hole town is some kind of super-secret-all-important stop for the Reich?”

"Tully?" Troy nodded toward the buildings. "Which one?"

Tully scanned the buildings slowly, "That one." 

"Cotton?"

"Gotcha covered Sarge." Cotton got to his knees, aiming his rifle toward the building Tully indicated. He scanned the building through his rifle scope, "I don't see anything, they must be inside."

“Cover us, we’re going after Hitch.”

Cotton grinned, “Don’t make me come in after you.”

“Keep it quiet,” Troy advised, “no thunder unless you have to.”

Troy and Tully quickly zigzagged across the sand and made their way to the front of the building, taking time to check every corner and shadow. There would be no enemy sentry left alive on this raid.

The sergeant eased the door open slowly, not a sound could be heard, not even the wind. He signaled and Tully went in, crouching, rifle at the ready.

“Clear.” Tully whispered, unsheathing the long knife he kept strapped to his leg.

Troy checked the area outside and slipped in, closing the door behind him. The room was dark, the windows shuttered and they carefully explored, finding nothing that gave them any clues to their friend’s whereabouts.

“Are you sure this is the right building?” Troy asked, worry making his voice harsher than he’d intended.

Tully gritted his teeth, “Has to be.”

Troy kicked at the rush mat on the floor and it slid aside, uncovering a trap door.

Tully grabbed the ring and Troy nodded. The door pulled up with a soft creak. The dark haired man dropped into the cellar, heedless of any watcher that may have been waiting in the darkness below.

He pulled a lighter from his pocket, opened it, striking a small flame.

“Damn it!” the lighter dropped from his fingers and he cursed again as the flame died out in the sand.

“What is it?” Tully called.

“Get down here.”

Troy stepped back as the lanky driver slid through the opening.

“Sarge? What’s wrong? Is it Mark? Is he…?”

“Light one of those damn matches you’re always chewing on, I dropped my lighter.”

Tully struck a match on his belt buckle and held it up. The small corona of light didn’t reveal much of the room. He took a couple of steps and froze. The sand at his toes was dark and wet. Just beyond that, lay a body with blood soaked hair.

Tully hissed in a breath, "He's dead.”

“Damn it, not Mark…”

1,076 words
Rated G
Spoilers for The Truce At Arubah Raid, this is a tag to the episode.
Deitrich is such a deep character, he has so many emotions that play out on his face that he never gets to express. 
This is written as an excerpt from his journal.
I fixed it so anyone can leave a comment, please let me know what you think.  I'm not sure I like it, it feels a little off but then again it's my first Deitrich and in first person no less.

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880 words
This is chapter two of my tag fic but you don't really need to read the first one to understand this chapter.
Tully and Hitch angst.       G rated, just keep the kleenex handy.
Thanks again to Jen C for the comments /reviews /encouragement.
 

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In one of the episodes, Hitchcock was talking to Troy and said something about how they had "put it on the line" for him.
There is some Hitch torture in this, so grab a box of kleenex.  As usual, this is a work in progress, feel free to poke the muse, she loves to have comments.

Click on the cut to read.

( Forfeit )

This is written as a tag to one of the episodes - I don't remember the episode title though I think it was in the 2nd season. The Rats are trapped in a building full of ammunatin they were planning on destroying. They can't get out and Deitrich can't shoot at them without blowing up his munitions. Hitch gets shot in the chest with an arrow.

( An arrow wound... are you kidding? )

( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. )

This is a Fall Guy fanfic, a little over 500 words. Rated G. It's Colt's thoughts on Howie after the events of Notes On Courage.
It doesn't feel finished, but who knows when I will write more. Poke the muse, she might say more.

( A Taste of Ashes )

( Tea and Sympathy )

I love old TV shows. The Rat Patrol is one I can remember looking forward to, I would rush through dinner just so I could be in front of the TV when the theme song started to play. The first time I met my great uncle John my mouth dropped open and I couldn't say a word for several minutes. I couldn't believe I was meeting the guy who played two different characters on one of my favorite shows.  This one is for you, Uncle John Anderson!

It's a tag to the episode The Last Harbor Raid. G rated and very short, it's a letter of thanks written to the Rat Patrol team.

( March 12, 1943 )

You grounded me to reality

And I fought you every step

I knew that I was wounded

I knew that I need care

But I refused to accept it

I had my own methods

Cruel, yes, but it worked

Instant, painful but effective

I know better but I can’t stop

Excuses that I hate

It shows a weakness I despise

I don’t want to go back there

But the way ahead is dark and unknown

At least back there I have my place

Safe in a refuge of my own design

Can’t find my way home, alone

Fly, leaping to the edge

Pausing, held aloft by hope

Wondering if I’ll fall

Time will tell

And so I’ll wait

Reflections of my fate

In shattered glass and steel and stone

 

 

01-11-07

This is part (the only remaining part, there was more tho I can't find it now) of a fic I wrote many, many years ago after seeing a Rick Springfield music video. I've forgotten the song it was for but like the music video's of that era it was more of a short movie than a music video. Anyway, Rick was a singing slave in a mine or something. It was cool.
Someday I'll write more...
I hope.

Rating: G
Length: a little over 1200 words


( Rek )

This could be read as a vampire drabble although that wasn't what I was thinking of when I wrote it. It's one of the multitude of short scenes that I tend to wrote in the hopes that someday I will write more to go with it.

( Drink )

The challange was to use the word 'sheepish' in a drabble or shortfic. I had to use in a way that was not the usual useage...

Rating: G
Fandom: The Fall Guy
Length: 600 words

( Sheepish )