I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that you may respond to the drabble challenge at ANY point during the week, not only the day that it's posted. You can also use the awfully handy "track this" button if you want to keep an eye on it.
(
The rules, such as they are... )
Comments 6
Policing was one thing. Who he had in his own bed was another.
Hunched over the desk, he turned the whisky glass between finger and thumb. Round, and round, and round.
Close by, the ashtray was overflowing.
Sam's eyes had overflowed, with gratitude and then tears. It made Gene sick to think of it, but think he did.
Why had he done it? He couldn't say.
Worse: he wasn't sure it would never happen again.
Reply
Reply
"If you need a chance to...reflect..."
Gene let him flounder for another few seconds. He'd seen this coming, of course - you'd have had to be blind, or DCI Litton, to have missed it - but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the moment.
"I'm not walking you down the aisle, am I?"
Tyler moistened his lips. "No, Guv. And for the best man's speech, we've decided-"
"-to let me sort it? Clever lad. Someone has to make sure Cartwright knows what she's getting into."
Reply
Reply
Reply
Gene, stretched out on his settee, watching with guarded eyes, downs a sip of his scotch. 'Then go.'
'It isn't that simple, Guv - and this place, it won't let me forget.' Drunk, but not enough to care, Sam crashes down next to Gene, leans into him with all his weight.
'Jesus, you've bony hips.'
Sam shifts sideways, bumps back into him, harder. 'You could always make me leave.'
Gene, though, is resolute. 'Your subtlety is lacking.'
Sam, lulled by Gene's body-heat, reflects in the sudden calm. 'You really have no idea.'
Reply
Leave a comment