Necro-Marks (Common Law Crack Fic)
Jul. 20th, 2015 08:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Necro-Marks
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks + Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG
Word Count: 681
Summary: Travis thinks he’s casting a love spell but he’s not.
Author’s Note: Written for the comment_fic prompt of: any, any, It's all fun and games until someone raises the dead. (ParaNorman). So, er, yeah. This is just a tiny bit crack-tastic.
“Travis,” Wes shouted through heaving breaths, “what the hell have you done now?”
Ducking behind a dumpster, Travis collapsed against its green metal side and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’? There’s a dead body chasing us, Marks. You had to have done something!”
“Man, why is it always my fault when something goes wrong?” Travis gave Wes his best bitch face for emphasis.
“Because you’re the screw up in this partnership,” Wes reminded him. “Besides, when I make a mistake, I admit to it. So fess up. What. Did. You. Do?”
“I swear I didn’t know,” Travis panted, angling his head to look around the dumpster. The reanimated corpse stood ten feet away, trying to pick up the trail it seemingly lost.
Wes slapped a hand against his forehead. “Didn’t know what, exactly?”
“She told me it was a love spell,” Travis admitted. “Swore it’d win you over if I spoke the words in your presence.”
“And you thought that a crime scene was an appropriate time to do this?” Wes shook his head because really, only Travis could ever conceive of such a ridiculous plan. “While standing over a dead body.”
“It was the first time all day I had your attention.”
“Seriously?” Wes studied Travis’ face, searching for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to see. Nothing but sincerity reflected back in those crystalline blue eyes. “You really are something.”
“So, does that mean the spell didn’t work?” The pout planted firmly on Travis’ mouth was too much to resist.
“How about we get rid of this zombie chasing our asses and we can discuss it then?”
“Score,” Travis yelled, jumping up and pumping his fist in the air. “Crap.”
“Crap is right,” Wes muttered, bolting out from around Travis and drawing his weapon.
The corpse, alerted by Marks’ triumphant shouts, had ambled around towards their hiding spot. Without a second’s hesitation, Wes pumped three bullets into the shambling body’s head. It stood, wobbling for a long moment before it fell on its face with a wet crunching sound.
“That was gross,” Travis added, unnecessarily. “But it goes to prove one thing.”
“And what’s that?” Wes holstered his gun and kicked the body twice for good measure.
“That it’s all fun and games until someone raises the dead.”
“God help me,” Wes snorted. “I’m partnered with Anita freaking Blake.”
Travis blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Other than the fact you need to read more? Nothing, Travis. Just forget it.” He just prayed this didn’t make him Jean-Claude. Or Asher. Hell, if Travis was Anita, then he could literally be any one of a hundred guys. The thought both intrigued and frightened him.
“Wes?”
He looked up. “Yeah?”
“You kind of… drifted off there, man. It was creepy.” Travis squeezed his shoulder and smiled. “So, can we have that talk now? About whether the spell worked or not?”
Wes pressed his lips together, attempting to not strangle his partner. “On one condition.”
“Which is?” Travis widened his eyes feigning innocence.
“You tell me which foster sister gave you that spell so I can have a few words with her.”
The million-watt smile that had first captured Wes’ attention all those years ago broke across Travis’ face. “I’ll never tell,” he chuckled.
“Then you’ll never know if you could have had a date, will you?” Wes shrugged and pulled out his phone to call in the discharge of a police firearm as well as the newly dead again dead body’s location. He walked out of the alley and onto the street, looking for a stronger cell signal.
Travis watched him walking away. “Wes, wait. Her name’s Marisol. Did you hear me? Marisol!”
Wes turned his back to Travis, laughing at his partner’s distress. “That’ll teach him to play with forces he doesn’t understand.” He made his call, knowing Travis wasn’t going to go anywhere until he got a response. But hey, Marks was the one that had raised the dead body, the least he could do was wait a few more minutes.
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks + Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG
Word Count: 681
Summary: Travis thinks he’s casting a love spell but he’s not.
Author’s Note: Written for the comment_fic prompt of: any, any, It's all fun and games until someone raises the dead. (ParaNorman). So, er, yeah. This is just a tiny bit crack-tastic.
“Travis,” Wes shouted through heaving breaths, “what the hell have you done now?”
Ducking behind a dumpster, Travis collapsed against its green metal side and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’? There’s a dead body chasing us, Marks. You had to have done something!”
“Man, why is it always my fault when something goes wrong?” Travis gave Wes his best bitch face for emphasis.
“Because you’re the screw up in this partnership,” Wes reminded him. “Besides, when I make a mistake, I admit to it. So fess up. What. Did. You. Do?”
“I swear I didn’t know,” Travis panted, angling his head to look around the dumpster. The reanimated corpse stood ten feet away, trying to pick up the trail it seemingly lost.
Wes slapped a hand against his forehead. “Didn’t know what, exactly?”
“She told me it was a love spell,” Travis admitted. “Swore it’d win you over if I spoke the words in your presence.”
“And you thought that a crime scene was an appropriate time to do this?” Wes shook his head because really, only Travis could ever conceive of such a ridiculous plan. “While standing over a dead body.”
“It was the first time all day I had your attention.”
“Seriously?” Wes studied Travis’ face, searching for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to see. Nothing but sincerity reflected back in those crystalline blue eyes. “You really are something.”
“So, does that mean the spell didn’t work?” The pout planted firmly on Travis’ mouth was too much to resist.
“How about we get rid of this zombie chasing our asses and we can discuss it then?”
“Score,” Travis yelled, jumping up and pumping his fist in the air. “Crap.”
“Crap is right,” Wes muttered, bolting out from around Travis and drawing his weapon.
The corpse, alerted by Marks’ triumphant shouts, had ambled around towards their hiding spot. Without a second’s hesitation, Wes pumped three bullets into the shambling body’s head. It stood, wobbling for a long moment before it fell on its face with a wet crunching sound.
“That was gross,” Travis added, unnecessarily. “But it goes to prove one thing.”
“And what’s that?” Wes holstered his gun and kicked the body twice for good measure.
“That it’s all fun and games until someone raises the dead.”
“God help me,” Wes snorted. “I’m partnered with Anita freaking Blake.”
Travis blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Other than the fact you need to read more? Nothing, Travis. Just forget it.” He just prayed this didn’t make him Jean-Claude. Or Asher. Hell, if Travis was Anita, then he could literally be any one of a hundred guys. The thought both intrigued and frightened him.
“Wes?”
He looked up. “Yeah?”
“You kind of… drifted off there, man. It was creepy.” Travis squeezed his shoulder and smiled. “So, can we have that talk now? About whether the spell worked or not?”
Wes pressed his lips together, attempting to not strangle his partner. “On one condition.”
“Which is?” Travis widened his eyes feigning innocence.
“You tell me which foster sister gave you that spell so I can have a few words with her.”
The million-watt smile that had first captured Wes’ attention all those years ago broke across Travis’ face. “I’ll never tell,” he chuckled.
“Then you’ll never know if you could have had a date, will you?” Wes shrugged and pulled out his phone to call in the discharge of a police firearm as well as the newly dead again dead body’s location. He walked out of the alley and onto the street, looking for a stronger cell signal.
Travis watched him walking away. “Wes, wait. Her name’s Marisol. Did you hear me? Marisol!”
Wes turned his back to Travis, laughing at his partner’s distress. “That’ll teach him to play with forces he doesn’t understand.” He made his call, knowing Travis wasn’t going to go anywhere until he got a response. But hey, Marks was the one that had raised the dead body, the least he could do was wait a few more minutes.
