For drzlilsuga
Title: the opposite of amnesia
Fandom: Rookie Blue
Characters: Gail, Luke
Rating: I don't understand US ratings. Teen or something, I suppose. There's swearing and junk.
Word Count No clue. Not enough.
"I'm thinking of getting a cat," Gail says, as soon as he opens the door. "Talk me out of it." She walks in, without waiting for an invitation, handing him a bottle of tequila and a bag of limes as she passes.
Already kicking off her shoes and settling on the couch before Luke's even closed the door.
~~~
"Our exes are fucking now. Did you know?" She times it to coincide with his first shot. He coughs, the sting bringing tears to his eyes. He would swear there are tears in hers too, but by the time he can check, they're gone.
~~~
"Something with short hair," she says, as he's kissing down her neck. "I really don't want to have to deal with furballs." He smothers a laugh against her collarbone.
"Any thoughts on the colour?" he finally asks, slightly proud he can still pretend to give a shit about cats, with her hand down his pants.
"Dammit, Luke." She yanks his head back, by the hair. "You're supposed to be talking me out of it."
~~~
They're lying, spent, on his bed before she speaks again. “Does it hurt?” she asks suddenly.
She's running her finger gently round the scar on his abdomen, but he knows her well enough by now to realise that it's just her cover for the question she's really asking.
“Less than it did. More than it will,” is the best he can do.
And because that's even more pitifully short than I thought it would be, I hereby grant you a share of this mix because it was at least half inspired by your Gail prompt of awesomeness. Or prompt of Gail's awesomeness.
Fandom: Rookie Blue
Characters: Gail, Luke
Rating: I don't understand US ratings. Teen or something, I suppose. There's swearing and junk.
Word Count No clue. Not enough.
"I'm thinking of getting a cat," Gail says, as soon as he opens the door. "Talk me out of it." She walks in, without waiting for an invitation, handing him a bottle of tequila and a bag of limes as she passes.
Already kicking off her shoes and settling on the couch before Luke's even closed the door.
~~~
"Our exes are fucking now. Did you know?" She times it to coincide with his first shot. He coughs, the sting bringing tears to his eyes. He would swear there are tears in hers too, but by the time he can check, they're gone.
~~~
"Something with short hair," she says, as he's kissing down her neck. "I really don't want to have to deal with furballs." He smothers a laugh against her collarbone.
"Any thoughts on the colour?" he finally asks, slightly proud he can still pretend to give a shit about cats, with her hand down his pants.
"Dammit, Luke." She yanks his head back, by the hair. "You're supposed to be talking me out of it."
~~~
They're lying, spent, on his bed before she speaks again. “Does it hurt?” she asks suddenly.
She's running her finger gently round the scar on his abdomen, but he knows her well enough by now to realise that it's just her cover for the question she's really asking.
“Less than it did. More than it will,” is the best he can do.
And because that's even more pitifully short than I thought it would be, I hereby grant you a share of this mix because it was at least half inspired by your Gail prompt of awesomeness. Or prompt of Gail's awesomeness.