The smiter smit by fawsley, green crossover Cortina with Sam and Rupert and creepy TCG
Title: The smiter smit
Author: fawsley
Characters: Sam/Rupert, implied Sam/Gene, TCG
Rating: green Cortina
Warning: crossover hell. with gloves.
Word count: 503
Disclaimer: All the property of the BBC, Kudos, and ITV
Summary: Rupert gets more than he bargained for with the cute skinny guy he's picked up.
Note: Still behind on catching up with comments but getting there. Done! Yay! Still catching up on posting stuff previously posted elsewhere. Thought I'd better post this one before everyone forgot about Demons.
The smiter smit
Definitely not a half-life.
And if all that moaning and wriggling was anything to go by, more like a life and a half.
But there was still something unsettling about the cute skinny guy he’d picked up. Like the way he seemed to think they already knew each other, and intimately so at that. Seriously weird. Though Galvin could put up with it if there was more moaning and wriggling to be had. If there were a grading for that, the guy would be up at the top of the scale, type twelve at least. Best he’d had in ages.
He didn’t remember the tv having been on while they’d been at it, but then again with all the noise the guy had been making he probably wouldn’t have noticed. Maybe the monotone whine had been what’d awoken him. The cute guy was dead to the world. In a minute he’d make an effort to discover if he had any strength left after all that action to get up and switch the damned thing off.
Opening one sleepy eye he found himself face to face with a type four. Harmless, on the whole, but bloody annoying. The sort that just hung around where they were least wanted and irritated the hell out of you. Might go some way towards explaining the cute guy’s nuttiness if it’d been bothering him for a while.
‘You don’t belong here!’ the annoyance announced confidently.
‘And nor do you, missy,’ Galvin growled as he felt carefully under the bed for where he hoped he’d left his not exactly trusty pulse gun…
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•´
‘Whatthebloodyhellwasthat?!’
Sam shot up in bed and almost straight onto the floor. Gene was sat clutching whatever new toy it was he'd purloined from the weapons store, staring at the smouldering wreckage on the other side of the room.
‘Sorry,’ he drawled. ‘I appear to have shot your tv.’
Sam buried his face in his hands, rubbed hard, trying to find a grasp on normality for once in whatever life it was he’d washed up in.
‘Can’t say I blame you. Should have done it myself, ages ago. Now put that thing down before you do any more damage. The sooner we get it safely back under lock and key the better. Same goes for the accent. That should be shut away forever, it’s getting on my nerves. Not very convincing, you know, Gene.’
He lay back down and snuggled up against the warm body next to him. Warm and exceptionally sexy.
‘But you can keep the outfit. About time you got rid of those bloody loafers and that ratty old coat. Like the gloves though. Always did like the gloves. Keep the gloves. Mmmm… gloves… Love your gloves, Gene...’
Galvin frowned at the skinny guy rubbing wantonly against him. Very cute but very weird. Still, there were compensations. He could put up with weird if there was wriggling to be had.
Though constantly being called by a girl’s name was beginning to grate somewhat...
0o0
And for those who wanted to know what happened when Gene walked in on Sam and Rupert, there's Double Trouble.
Author: fawsley
Characters: Sam/Rupert, implied Sam/Gene, TCG
Rating: green Cortina
Warning: crossover hell. with gloves.
Word count: 503
Disclaimer: All the property of the BBC, Kudos, and ITV
Summary: Rupert gets more than he bargained for with the cute skinny guy he's picked up.
Note: Still behind on catching up with comments but getting there. Done! Yay! Still catching up on posting stuff previously posted elsewhere. Thought I'd better post this one before everyone forgot about Demons.
The smiter smit
Definitely not a half-life.
And if all that moaning and wriggling was anything to go by, more like a life and a half.
But there was still something unsettling about the cute skinny guy he’d picked up. Like the way he seemed to think they already knew each other, and intimately so at that. Seriously weird. Though Galvin could put up with it if there was more moaning and wriggling to be had. If there were a grading for that, the guy would be up at the top of the scale, type twelve at least. Best he’d had in ages.
He didn’t remember the tv having been on while they’d been at it, but then again with all the noise the guy had been making he probably wouldn’t have noticed. Maybe the monotone whine had been what’d awoken him. The cute guy was dead to the world. In a minute he’d make an effort to discover if he had any strength left after all that action to get up and switch the damned thing off.
Opening one sleepy eye he found himself face to face with a type four. Harmless, on the whole, but bloody annoying. The sort that just hung around where they were least wanted and irritated the hell out of you. Might go some way towards explaining the cute guy’s nuttiness if it’d been bothering him for a while.
‘You don’t belong here!’ the annoyance announced confidently.
‘And nor do you, missy,’ Galvin growled as he felt carefully under the bed for where he hoped he’d left his not exactly trusty pulse gun…
*´¨)
¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)
(¸.•´ (¸.•´
‘Whatthebloodyhellwasthat?!’
Sam shot up in bed and almost straight onto the floor. Gene was sat clutching whatever new toy it was he'd purloined from the weapons store, staring at the smouldering wreckage on the other side of the room.
‘Sorry,’ he drawled. ‘I appear to have shot your tv.’
Sam buried his face in his hands, rubbed hard, trying to find a grasp on normality for once in whatever life it was he’d washed up in.
‘Can’t say I blame you. Should have done it myself, ages ago. Now put that thing down before you do any more damage. The sooner we get it safely back under lock and key the better. Same goes for the accent. That should be shut away forever, it’s getting on my nerves. Not very convincing, you know, Gene.’
He lay back down and snuggled up against the warm body next to him. Warm and exceptionally sexy.
‘But you can keep the outfit. About time you got rid of those bloody loafers and that ratty old coat. Like the gloves though. Always did like the gloves. Keep the gloves. Mmmm… gloves… Love your gloves, Gene...’
Galvin frowned at the skinny guy rubbing wantonly against him. Very cute but very weird. Still, there were compensations. He could put up with weird if there was wriggling to be had.
Though constantly being called by a girl’s name was beginning to grate somewhat...
0o0
And for those who wanted to know what happened when Gene walked in on Sam and Rupert, there's Double Trouble.