Travel hopefully in life.

It’s that time again! I’m doubling down today because the two items I’m quoting likely won’t see public consumption anytime in the near future. Both were begun as options for Spicy Advent but either tonally didn’t match where I wanted to go or grew enough legs to be their own actual story separate of the prompt that inspired them.

Here are a few lines from a Webgott post-war thing:

“Holy shit,” was the first thing Joe said after he’d wrenched the damn thing open, which was clearly not the greeting Webster had been hoping for, from the way his smile stiffened into a proper grimace. Joe blinked at him for a long, bewildered second and then offered by way of recovery, “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Webster agreed. He swallowed, throat clenching and tongue darting out over the chapped pad of his bottom lip, and then added like he was afraid Joe might’ve forgotten, “You invited me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joe replied, flapping a hand at him and stepping back to swing an inviting arm into the hallway behind him. “I know I did, I just - ” he cut off sharply as the words abandoned him—there were shockingly few polite ways to phrase the sentiment ‘I was only half-serious when I said it and the part of me that was serious didn’t really believe you would come’ without offending Webster’s timekeeping abilities at the very least.

And here are a few from a Man from U.N.C.L.E. Ritchie remake pre-Napoleon/Ilya thing:

“You understand what I mean when I say ‘cozy up,’ don’t you, Peril?”

Ilya canted his head and waved a hand lazily back and forth in the air between them. “Of the two of us, which is fluent in the other’s mother tongue?”

“технически говоря - ” Napoleon started, protest splintering into an affronted laugh when Ilya fished a decorative seed pod out of the potpourri bowl on the table at his back without looking and flung it hard at Napoleon’s face.

“I’m trying to look out for you!” Napoleon chided, sucking his teeth and brushing the pod to the floor. “After Burma, we all know that you’re perfectly capable of fighting your way out of damn near any impossible situation you may find yourself in, but I think we can both agree that it is overall best to simply avoid the necessity, yes?”

MARGINALIA
Joseph Liebgott & David Webster

Webster heaved a sigh and threw his head back to stare imploringly up at the ceiling of the tent with his hands splayed wide. “Why?” he groaned, scowling at the heavens. “Why can’t you let this go?”

“Why can’t you just tell me what you’re up to?” Joe shot back.

(Or: in which Webster really likes Robert Leckie and Liebgott really doesn’t.)

Author's Note: Written for a request over on the Loose Lips Sink Ships Prompt Meme:

“AU set in either BoB or TP. Everybody hates Leckie. So does Liebgott. Web begs to differ. (Friendship or slash, writer's choice. Background Webgott is a plus.)”

Apologies to Steinbeck, who I really don’t like but also probably doesn’t deserve Liebgott’s derision. I’m not going to apologize to Leckie, who likely does, but I promise all the shit talk is in good fun and I, myself, am a fan of Leckie’s even though he’s kind of the worst.

No offense is meant to either secretaries or folks who suffer enuresis of any kind.

Marginalia are defined by Wikipedia as “marks made in the margins of a book or other document. They may be scribbles, comments, glosses (annotations), critiques, doodles, or illuminations.” Take that how you will.

Thank you to Muccamukk for giving it a spag check and helping me make it flow better. Prompter, I hope you like it!

You can read it here on AO3.

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