Fandom: SMALLVILLE
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Author on LJ: seperis
Author Website: Indulgence at !lluminated Text
Why this must be read:
Jenn is probably best know in Smallville fandom for her wonderful series-fics and novellas, but I've chosen to rec one of her shorter pieces here. "Outside In" is a personal favourite of mine because it pushes so many buttons. There's pent-up teen-girl sexual energy, not-so-accidental voyeurism, trangressive late-night trysts...are you liking this yet? The POV is Chloe's - a character that so many of us identify with that this could almost be a fan's eye view - and the scenario is some seriously hot, seriously illicit shenanigans between Clark and Lex. Chloe goes looking for one thing, finds quite another and decides she likes what she sees. Hot stuff.

Outside In

I'm terribly sorry I started the Angel recs so late this month - am trying to make up for lateness with volume! I'm a fan of a lot of the old classics of ficdom, so hopefully I'll lead you back to stories you read once long ago and forgot that you loved, or maybe you'll enjoy these treasure for the first time.

Fandom: ANGEL
Pairing: Angel/Spike

Authors' webpages:
ficbitch.com - portal to Kita and Jess' various sites
Authors on LJ: kita0610 and jess79

Why this must be read:
The great comedic soap opera of our time... Angel. Spike. A series of wacky adventures, lots of snark, and lots of really hot sex. The recommendation really doesn't need any more than that, but I should probably mention that Kita writes my favorite Angel, and Jess writes some of my favorite Spike; the stories are hot and taut and funny and there is no equivilant anywhere to this series.

I shouldn't do this. Bad things when I get intoxicated. I have a tendency to frighten television actresses or let blonde women bite me in the neck. Hell, now that I come to think of it, I seem to recall being drunk off my ass the night I turned Spike. But he was so young and attractive and edible, and his skin was so warm against the cool London air as I said "how do you feel about immortality, boy?" and he shrugged gracefully, lit a cigarette and said "why the hell not?" and, damn it, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Which indicates to me, more than anything else, that a persuasive William the Bloody and a drunken Angelus are a *bad* combination.

But I am his Sire. I am the Scourge of Europe. I am nearly twice his age. And I'm Irish, goddamnit. I could drink this whelp under the table any day of the week.

Days of Our Unlives

Fandom: LORD OF THE RINGS
Pairing: Faramir, Boromir, OFC
Author on LJ: n/a
Author Website: The author's works are archived at HASA
Why this must be read:

Those of you who know me will be surprised I've held off till now recommending fiction set in Minas Tirith, but my next few recommendations will amend that...

'Box of Rain' features delicate and believable characterisations, both of those present and those absent, as Faramir finishes some business for his brother. There's also a well-written OFC. Good het writing is rather thin on the ground in the LotR fandom, and this is one of my very favourites -- don't be put off by the OFC label! A brief snippet from near the beginning, just to give a feel for Alon's style:

"There are times when my position is a boon and times when it is a distinct hindrance. As I stood in the shadows that night waiting for the guards to change their shifts, I bitterly envied the grimy anonymity of a passing goatherd. The guards did not bother to challenge him and his docile flock. But were I to pass them by with similar unconcern, my movements would be marked, discussed and dissected all about the city. Considering my errand, I thought it prudent to remain beneath their notice.

It was pouring; a steady stream of rain and sleet dripped from the eaves down my neck. I drew up the hood of my cloak to stanch the icy flow. I would not be able to see as well, but if I could not sneak by a pair of sleepy guards even half-blinded by the hood of my ranger’s cloak, I thought I should probably hang the thing up forever."

Box of Rain

Sequel to Closer to Fine & To Look at You (both R rated), but I think it works equally well (if not better) read independently.

Fandom: X-FILES
Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Author on LJ: N/A
Author's Website: The X-Fiction of Analise
Why this must be read:

Colonization has come and gone, taking civilization with it. But not necessarily civilzation's monsters. That's the summary Analise provides for this post-col mystery, and it's an accurate one. One of the hallmarks of Analise's stories is an attention to the romance of the lead characters and a compelling external plot carrying the narrative along. She also excells at original characters, who are always important, vital, and distinctive without in any way being Mary Sues. Analise is one of the fanfiction writers I fully expect to be publishing original fiction under her own name at some point.

A Thin Veneer tells the story of a Mulder and Scully who have survived the first stage of colonization and found refuge in the northern Rockies, where they are helping build a small community with a group of other survivors. But amidst the day-to-day struggles about food, clothing, warmth, and hiding from the alien invaders is the slowly growing realization that the tiny community also harbors a murderer...

He tugged his woolen cap down tighter over dark hair starting to fleck with gray and pushed himself away from the tree, continuing up the mountain. Over and done with. If only it could be. If only this could all be a nightmare they could simply wake from. He would get up out of bed, head for the FBI and chastise himself for eating spicy Thai food at 3:00am ...and he would laugh off the whole thing.

No.

You can't really laugh off the end of the world. Can you?

A Thin Veneer by Analise.

Title: Dear Annie
Fandom: Enterprise
Pairing: none really
Author on LJ: marag
Author Website: Diversions & Digressions
Why this must be read: The entire series consists of letters from Hoshi Sato back to a friend of hers on Earth. They are some of the first fics of Mara's that I read and they became positively addictive. These letters made some of the more...challenging episodes of the first season especially. They are a huge must read for any Enterprise fan. (Any Hoshi fan in particular) She has since discontinued writing the series (when the NX-01 entered the Delphic Expanse, there was no logical way to continue) and it's almost depressing to know there's no 'Dear Annie' letter coming to make sense of the episodes. But...we'll always have the ones that she did write...:-)

Fandom: THE SENTINEL
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Author on LJ: Could someone help me out with this? I'm sure she is, but I don’t know her LJ name.
Author Website: Lemon Drop's TS fic can be found at 852 Prospect
Why this must be read:

I wouldn't consider my duties as a crack_van reccer complete were I not to point you towards one of the loveliest and most romantic stories out there, by perhaps one of the most lyrical authors the fandom is lucky to have.

"Tempus Fugit" is a gorgeous, lush piece of storytelling. I think of it as 'the holiday story,' because it's structured around an assortment of holidays - each section is headed by a date that works within (and then past) canon, as well as the name of the holiday - Bodhi Day, Candlemas, Rosh Hashanah, and, of course, Beltane.

What I love about it, what makes me want to coax you into sitting down and reading it right this minute, is the deep and almost overwhelming feel of the piece. Unlike many of my favorite fics, 'Tempus' features no shocking twists, no chases (car or otherwise), no huge horrible events.

What it's about is Jim Ellison, finding a way to believe and something to believe in. One scene in particular gets to me (and I realize this may be because of my own spiritual issues, but it's well written and worth mentioning nonetheless.)

He smiled to himself. What a fitting saint for Sandburg's birthday. The ecstatic saint indeed. He read on, learning about St. Mary Magdalene's life and her years of ecstatic visions, dictated to other nuns into six volumes, but he was stopped by this bit of information:

"It seems that God permitted her this special closeness to prepare her for the five years of desolation that followed when she experienced spiritual dryness. She was plunged into a state of darkness in which she saw nothing but what was horrible in herself and all around her. She had violent temptations and endured great physical suffering."

Oh, God, he thought prayerfully, please do not let this happen to my friend. He closed his eyes again and sank back to his knees, remembering the great physical suffering Blair had already endured. Jim knew that Blair often saw what was horrible in himself, as if through a distorted lens, because Jim also knew that Blair was a good and kind man, a man he respected and deeply, deeply loved.

A man with whom he had a profoundly carnal relationship, a sexual relationship that Jim's Church could not accept. So why am I here? Jim asked himself, feeling close to tears. He stood up quickly, ready to leave, tossing the flyer back onto the seat. Then he remembered that in the rear of the church, opposite the Lady Chapel, was a small chapel dedicated to Saint Francis, Jim's favorite saint. The bad boy who did good.

So he quietly walked back to kneel before the wooden carving of Saint Francis, who smiled placidly down at Jim. He crossed himself and folded his hands as he had when he was a child. Forgive me, Francis, he started awkwardly. I think you of all people would understand how I feel. I won't give up Blair, I won't call our love anything but what it is: a lifesaver. The saver of my life. Please give Blair the peace he deserves, and please help me be a better companion to him, the companion he deserves.

Saint Francis, of course, didn't answer, but after a few minutes more, Jim felt calmer. Not, perhaps, ready to party, not after his day, but willing to set aside his feelings and celebrate Blair's entrance into this world.

"Tempus" also features a nicely intertwined storyline of Naomi learning of Blair's death at the fountain, the grief it causes her and how she chooses to deal with it.

So many fans paint her as either the dumb hippie or the evil, malicious mother - I found it refreshing to read Lemon Drop's characterization. This Naomi is neither bad nor stupid; she's a woman who became a mother at perhaps too young an age, but that never lessened her bond with her son or her devotion to him.

Naomi, and, by extension, the reader, watches as Jim and Blair find comfort in and through one another. It's a tale of realization, a slice of life over the span of years spent together.

It's a gentle story, gently told. The author describes their falling in love --well, more than that, their realization that "we're in love, how could we not be in love?" -- so deftly and with such tenderness, it tightens my heart every time I read it.

If you couldn't tell, I adore this story. It's categorized as "romance," and I can't think of a better example of the genre.

Go, read now.

Tempus Fugit

Fandom: DUE SOUTH
Pairing: Ray Kowalski/Benton Fraser
Author's Website: http://www.debchan.com/livia/brighid/brighid.htm
Author on LJ: Bone: brighidestone

Why this must be read:

I find Brighid to be one of the most underrated authors out there. It's not like she's unknown or unpopular, it's just that I find her fic, at least in the fandoms I've read (Sentinal and dS), invariably tender, touching, and heartbreakingly lovely, and I think it deserves wider acclaim, and more passionate adulation, than it gets. Her stories read almost like poetry; they're beautifully paced and cadenced. And she more than any other writer I've read epitomizes the metaphor of slash-as-fairy-tale, without ever descending into cliche or insipidity. When I read her fics I feel like I've been granted entrance into a dreamy, magical world, a world that is sweet and tender and whimsical yet never sappy - a world that I yearn for, that I hate to leave.

I love all Brighid's dS stories - they're among my favorites in the fandom - but I think Slice is perhaps her most substantial and remarkable accomplishment. This is one that hits you where it counts, sneaking in under the radar to leave you marveling and laughing and wiping the mist out of your eyes. It's a lovely, touching, deceptively simple fic, structured (similarly to Resonant's Sixteenth of June, which I rec'ed earlier) as a series of vignettes, "slices" of Ray and Fraser's life post-Call of the Wild, as they come together on the quest and then settle down together in Chicago. Each slice is cleverly associated with a type of pie - a Peanut Pie, for example, introduces the scene in which Ray first meets Bob Fraser's ghost (who appears at an extremely inopportune moment!), Mincemeat Pie for a child murder case that ravages Ray, and Key Lime pie for the scene in which Ray and Fraser prepare to visit Stella and Ray Vecchio in Florida. (On a side note, Brighid provides a recipe for each type of pie. I'm a pie baker myself, and though I haven't tried any of these recipes, they look wonderful, and I've been told they are.)

The slices alternate between Ray's and Fraser's first-person POVs, and Brighid writes both staggeringly well - the voices are dead on. Each slice is filled with gorgeous little details and images that show the guys' feelings and characters incredibly effectively and insightfully. Ray's sensitivity and vulnerability, Fraser's fears and insecurities, their complementary strengths and the deep tenderness between them - all are conveyed so clearly and yet so subtly. It's another fine example of "showing not telling." And Slice, like all Brighid's fic, reads like poetry; the rhythm and cadence of her prose is so lovely and lyrical, the pacing so measured and so deliberate, that it feels like a song. Her writing manages to be restrained and at the same time almost heartbreakingly poignant - but it's also funny and witty and sexy and detailed and very "real," never mannered or pretentious:

Home is good, home is greatness, and Fraser de-shits the bathroom where we left Dief for the day, then throws me in the shower with a pointed reference to my less-than pleasing eau de days-old dumpster. By the time I'm toweling off he's gone down to run a load down through the laundry. I crack open a beer, start in on dinner, cleaning up some potatoes and slicing up carrots, even starting a pot of oatmeal for Dief, who's making pleading noises, like, "C'mon buddy, can you spare a wonton?" but I'm on to him, and hell, I've already endured the wrath of Fraser once today, and I tell him that, holding his muzzle so he gets the point. The furry little bastard mumbles something rude and heads off to watch television, leaving me to the vegetables. And then Fraser comes up behind me as I'm chopping, takes the knife from my right hand, the beer from my left hand, and he kisses the side of my neck and it's good, it's greatness.

Did I say today sucked? Musta been off my head.

It's writing like this that make Slice so unforgettable.

Slice