Caius the Bigger

Barry missed Iris. Barry *really* missed Iris. Her smile and her easy sophistication and her mind and body and--her tendency to *not* steel the covers.

Or snore.

Barry pulled at the covers, hard--only to pull Ollie over on top of him, with the aforementioned covers. "Mmmm, Dinah," said Ollie sleepily.

"No! Not Dinah! Bar--MMPH." Ollie kissed him, enthusiastically, on the mouth.

Then Ollie seemed to wake up. "Oops, sorry about that. It's been awhile! You know how it is."

It had been *longer* for Barry, and it had *never* led to *this* sort of thing. Well, until now, he supposed, but he was definitely *not* the one doing the kissing.

(Or the covers-stealing, and Iris *had* told him that, although he *did* talk in his sleep, at least he didn't snore! His breath didn't smell like chili, either, and he'd shaved *just yesterday*!)

"I--think I'll go sleep on the floor, now."

"No, no!" said Ollie. It was hard to tell in the lack of light--and lack of sleep--but there was something almost like sensitivity in his face (and voice). "This is an important team-building exercise! And I can't let your sacrifice your sleep. I'm sorry.

"And I think you need to loosen up a little."

What Ollie just gave him might have been a manly hug, but it was really...rather like something else when the two men in question were in bed together, and one of them, at least, had recently been dreaming rather racy dreams.

"*Oliver*. I'm not *Hal*. I'm *not* going on a roadtrip with you. This is a Justice League mission, not some sort of--consciousness-raising!"

"This is a *mission* to work on our teamwork! And if you can't loosen up at least a *little* I don't think we'll be getting very far on that. You have to meet me half way!"

"Half way?! You can start by getting back on your side of the bed! With *your* half of the covers."

Ollie burst out laughing. "Oh man, you sound just like Dinah. Sorry about that." He yawned. "We can work on the teamwork thing in the morning."

Thirty seconds later, Ollie was snoring again, and by the morning, all the covers were on his side.

Barry really missed Iris. Even if she *was* just covering a story in Metropolis.

"Oh Superman! Harder! Yes, there! Oh--yes--KLTPZYXM!" Mr. Mxyzptlk came and went, simultaneously.

Superman lay back, satisfied, for a millisecond, then readjusted his costume and went off to combat the next threat of the day.

Sometimes it really *was* more effective to make love, not war.

I have tried to write you motorcycle fic! Someday, when you least expect it, it will actually get written! Or possibly not, since I know nothing about motorcycles and sort of suck at vehicles in general.

Meanwhile, hookerfic!

Even a Zemo had to do what was necessary to survive. *Especially* a Zemo--anyone could maintain one's nobility in good times, but when times were bad and one was forced to *work* for a living--well. Comporting oneself with the necessary dignity was a challenge worthy of the Thirteenth Baron Zemo.

Or so Helmut told himself, as he descended further and further into the torrid world of prostitution. Fortunately, his attributes were much in demand--a mask could cover his face, while the rest of his body remained a perfect specimen of the master race, for which lesser men (and a few women) would pay dearly.

Soon he had regular clients that paid even more for him to speak to them in German, or even to take on the uniform of the Third Reich. Some wanted him to dominate them--some to dominate him.

He did the latter only when greater plans desperately needed the money. Not only was it a betrayal of his heritage, but it was far to easy for him to get into the role. Especially when he could see the face of Captain America in whatever unworthy client he'd allowed to demean him briefly.

Nick had just wanted quiet little hide-out, a place to wait till things cooled up just a tad and SHIELD realized that it couldn't survive without him, secret war or no secret war.

Making contacts with the intelligence community in this parallel Earth--well, he'd never been one for just sitting back and cooling his heels, even when discretion really *was* the better part of valor.

The whole "chess" theme didn't impress him in the least. The game might be good enough for folks who *hadn't* had spent seventy years fighting wars, cold and hot and always bloody, hand to hand and *personally* as often as in command--but he'd never felt the need to call him self the White or Black or Red King of *anything*.

At least these ones didn't run around in their underwear.

Their White Queen, though--now *that* was an intelligence agent he could respect. And she was *more* than happy to make use of him: both his skills and his status as a non-entity in this universe.

It was fun. The politics in this universe were simpler, and he was happy enough to follow Mrs. Waller's lead and put up with her surveillance--he was on vacation, after all!

She made sure to ask him how he'd gotten here, of course, and why--and eventually he told her the full truth. She understood, completely. And then they got to commiserating, and drinking, and well--one thing led to another.

Amanda was *quite* the woman. She could teach even the Contessa a few things--and not just about agenting.

Agent 13 was a little startled when Amanda got to the top-secret interdimensional commlink before Nick did--but she gave good advice. And was quite attractive when she gave orders naked.

The Nick Fury and the Howling Commandos High School AU. Complete with prom-related drama

*dies* "Howling Commandos" would be the name of the football team, which Fury would be the captain of (Dugan would be a runningback, or maybe a quarterback).

Much drama would surround their homecoming game against the rival school's "Hyattsville Hydras," led by Nick's bitter rival, team captain Wolfgang "Wolfey" Strucker--who still holds a grudge for the time Nick broke his hand in an over-enthusiastic tackle during one of last season's games.

Cap would be a JV player who gets moved up into the varsity team when another player is injured mid-season, and Sharon Carter would be a cheerleader.

1. Six teenage boys stampeded up the the Furies' staircase like a herd of elephants--complete with trumpet.

This happened *every* day, and neither Mr. and Mrs. Fury nor Dawn and Jake paid any attention.

If they'd been listening, though, they'd have noticed a small difference. The "Howlers" as they called themselves (quite appropriately) were not howling about football today, or even about some brawl they'd had with Strucker's gang.

No. Today their minds were turned to--ROMANCE! "Nick's got a GIRLFRIEND!" they chanted. "He's got a DATE with PAMELA HAWLEY!" Gabe started playing "Here comes the bride" on his trumpet.

"Shut UP, ya good for nothin' INFANTS!" Nick bellowed at his friends, achieving at least momentary quiet. "Just 'cause no girl ever looks at *you* lousy bastards twice..."

"Hey, speak for yourself," said Dino Manelli, who'd had more dates than the rest of the Howlers combined.

"Even *I'm* irresistible to at least *one* woman," said Dum Dum Dugan, sadly. "Just wish Patricia would go *away*."

"You're going with her *again*?" asked Izzy. "Don't you know how to say 'no'?"

"*Ah* think he *likes* that l'il gal," said Reb Ralston.

"*Little* she's not!" said Dum Dum.

"That's why y'all are so cute together!--oof!"

"Who are you calling cute!" Dum Dum dove onto Reb. Izzy and Dino stepped aside and starting making bets, while Gabe provided musical accompaniment to the brawl.

"Wait," said Reb.

"You give?!" Dugan had him pinned--more or less.

"Ah think we're *forgettin'* something real important heah."

"Yes! Nick's *date*!" Dugan jumped up. Reb socked him. "Hey! That's not fair."

"Oh leave it," said Izzy.

"Yes," said Dino. "We don't need to be paying to repair Nick's parents' walls *again*."

Dum Dum blanched. "Yes. The important thing is Nick's date!"

"*I* don't see how it's that big a deal," said Nick, defensively. "It's just a dance!"

"JUST a dance!" Dino was irate. "Nick. PAMELA HAWLEY asked you to the prom!"

"Yes, yes, I was *there*." Nick crossed his arms.

"You'll gonna need high-falootin' manners!" Reb waved his arms, *away* from Dum Dum.

"And clothes that *aren't* torn." Izzy pointed at Nick's shirt, which was, in fact, torn. "Do you *have* any clothes that aren't torn?"

"What, *our* Nick?" Dum Dum threw open the closet door. "Torn, torn, torn to *shreds*, torn...."

"Nothing for it," said Dino. "We're gonna have to take him to the mall!"

"And then I'll play you some of the new tunes and Dino'll teach you how to dance!" said Gabe.

"I can fix up his uncle's old car good as new!" offered Izzy.

"This is going to be the best prom date *ever*, we promise!" said Dum Dum.

Six teenage boys pounded *downstairs* again, like five enthusiastic elephants sweeping their leader in the midst. "To the mall!"

No one in the Fury household noticed this time, either. Except Nick's little sister Dawn, who caught the word "mall" and stowed away in the back of the car.