fic meme [of dooooom]
I can't remember who this one came from...
Meme: Post a sentence/paragraph from *every* WIP you can find. No explanations allowed, just excerpt.
Okay then. I lost track of how many fandoms are included in here.
"Sorry boss. You and I, playing newlyweds? It'd be weird."
Cho does not look particularly sorry nor particularly weirded out. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was almost smirking. Jane, of course, is. Unabashedly so, in fact.
"Looks like it's you and me, Lisbon." He jumps up abruptly and tosses a bottle of Aleve her way. "Oh, you should take these. Head off that migraine you've got starting."
You smile, but wonder in the back of your mind when the roles got switched, because right now it feels a lot like you're waiting for him to catch up.
"Daniel, I promise it's completely free of my bacteria."
Cam smirks to himself. "Don't you mean cooties?"
"Yes, those," she agrees, grinning and pointing the water bottle in Daniel's direction.
John's not a bad office-mate, though understandably, he's a little distracting at times.
The third time he catches her staring, she's not entirely sure he believes her recycled concussion excuse.
He'd swapped 'care' for another four letter word for 'adore' as if they were a crossword puzzle and later- now- he's understandably no longer sure that it's all that different.
"Right- And until then, what happens? We join the von Trapp family singers and become the Lost World choral singers?" Marguerite can't seem to decide whether she's amused or outraged, and her mending sits forgotten on her lap as she gestures wildly.
"Until then, we have two more adults and seven children as houseguests. I've no doubt it'll be interesting. Perhaps you can hone your maternal instincts with them." Roxton grins, quite enjoying the sour look on her face.
She just scoffs, "That'll be the day!"
If a heart had voicemail, it'd say something terribly melodramatic right now, like: "You've reached the person who used to be me. She's not here, leave a message. Oh, and welcome to purgatory."
The thing is, she's never had quite that much whiny teenage angst in her, and really, life does go on.
He wonders why it's come to this- they can be best friends in the daylight, but he still has to guess at her nightmares when it's dark. He feigns sleep for as long as she is there, and falls into a fitful sleep at daybreak.
The strained looks from her mum and gramps when they think she isn't looking don't much help, but- "Of course everything's alright."
That's the most irritatingly familiar thing of all.
He is, after all, all sharp edges and reflected light. Something like a mirror but with a greater capacity for causing pain. She knows this, and sometimes thinks he's a little like a knife.
"Try swimming sideways, bide your time. You get caught fighting one of these things and you're dead. You'll wear out a lot sooner than it will, you hear me?"
"Are you sure you don't need help?"
Her eyes roll, but the corners of her mouth turn up, unable to completely hide her amusement. "I think I'll manage somehow."
Even when the world's ended, it really hasn't at all.
Elizabeth nods, humming in that way she has.
"Just nudging things around here and there, tweaking Radek's calculations, dealing with long-winded..." she trails off for a moment, looking around at something or someone he doesn't see and offering a conciliatory wave, "politicians. Almost like old times."
'Well, except for the-' "Wait a minute, what was wrong with Radek's calculations?"
She almost looks sheepish, something he's rarely seen on Elizabeth.
"Not much. Really. Just a little tweak." She pinches her fingers together in a minute gesture.
She'd been called for jury-duty (Again. And this time by the city of New York, and seriously, how did they manage to find her?), had dealt with three panicked phone calls from Jenna over a growing feud with what she insisted was the ghost of Janis Joplin.
Her fingers crawl up the back of his neck slowly, to tangle in his hair which still manages to defy both explanation and the known laws of physics.
The former civilian and current military leaders of the Atlantis expedition were supposed to carry themselves with decorum and... well, she can't precisely remember what else but she knows it was important.
Every now and then, he touches a spot with a long, slightly raised scar on her back, just the very edge of where it starts at her shoulder, moving in a horrifying zigzag another several inches down her back. Even when he’s not thinking about it, he slows down at that spot, sliding the pads of his fingers along it and fighting hard not to think of all the ways he has come close to losing her.
After a few more minutes she stirs slightly, and her breathing changes enough that he knows she's awake, and smiles.
"Morning."
>>>in summary: Crap. I have issues- I didn't realize there were that many fics lying around unfinished. I haven't even opened my flash drive. *hides*
Meme: Post a sentence/paragraph from *every* WIP you can find. No explanations allowed, just excerpt.
Okay then. I lost track of how many fandoms are included in here.
"Sorry boss. You and I, playing newlyweds? It'd be weird."
Cho does not look particularly sorry nor particularly weirded out. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was almost smirking. Jane, of course, is. Unabashedly so, in fact.
"Looks like it's you and me, Lisbon." He jumps up abruptly and tosses a bottle of Aleve her way. "Oh, you should take these. Head off that migraine you've got starting."
You smile, but wonder in the back of your mind when the roles got switched, because right now it feels a lot like you're waiting for him to catch up.
"Daniel, I promise it's completely free of my bacteria."
Cam smirks to himself. "Don't you mean cooties?"
"Yes, those," she agrees, grinning and pointing the water bottle in Daniel's direction.
John's not a bad office-mate, though understandably, he's a little distracting at times.
The third time he catches her staring, she's not entirely sure he believes her recycled concussion excuse.
He'd swapped 'care' for another four letter word for 'adore' as if they were a crossword puzzle and later- now- he's understandably no longer sure that it's all that different.
"Right- And until then, what happens? We join the von Trapp family singers and become the Lost World choral singers?" Marguerite can't seem to decide whether she's amused or outraged, and her mending sits forgotten on her lap as she gestures wildly.
"Until then, we have two more adults and seven children as houseguests. I've no doubt it'll be interesting. Perhaps you can hone your maternal instincts with them." Roxton grins, quite enjoying the sour look on her face.
She just scoffs, "That'll be the day!"
If a heart had voicemail, it'd say something terribly melodramatic right now, like: "You've reached the person who used to be me. She's not here, leave a message. Oh, and welcome to purgatory."
The thing is, she's never had quite that much whiny teenage angst in her, and really, life does go on.
He wonders why it's come to this- they can be best friends in the daylight, but he still has to guess at her nightmares when it's dark. He feigns sleep for as long as she is there, and falls into a fitful sleep at daybreak.
The strained looks from her mum and gramps when they think she isn't looking don't much help, but- "Of course everything's alright."
That's the most irritatingly familiar thing of all.
He is, after all, all sharp edges and reflected light. Something like a mirror but with a greater capacity for causing pain. She knows this, and sometimes thinks he's a little like a knife.
"Try swimming sideways, bide your time. You get caught fighting one of these things and you're dead. You'll wear out a lot sooner than it will, you hear me?"
"Are you sure you don't need help?"
Her eyes roll, but the corners of her mouth turn up, unable to completely hide her amusement. "I think I'll manage somehow."
Even when the world's ended, it really hasn't at all.
Elizabeth nods, humming in that way she has.
"Just nudging things around here and there, tweaking Radek's calculations, dealing with long-winded..." she trails off for a moment, looking around at something or someone he doesn't see and offering a conciliatory wave, "politicians. Almost like old times."
'Well, except for the-' "Wait a minute, what was wrong with Radek's calculations?"
She almost looks sheepish, something he's rarely seen on Elizabeth.
"Not much. Really. Just a little tweak." She pinches her fingers together in a minute gesture.
She'd been called for jury-duty (Again. And this time by the city of New York, and seriously, how did they manage to find her?), had dealt with three panicked phone calls from Jenna over a growing feud with what she insisted was the ghost of Janis Joplin.
Her fingers crawl up the back of his neck slowly, to tangle in his hair which still manages to defy both explanation and the known laws of physics.
The former civilian and current military leaders of the Atlantis expedition were supposed to carry themselves with decorum and... well, she can't precisely remember what else but she knows it was important.
Every now and then, he touches a spot with a long, slightly raised scar on her back, just the very edge of where it starts at her shoulder, moving in a horrifying zigzag another several inches down her back. Even when he’s not thinking about it, he slows down at that spot, sliding the pads of his fingers along it and fighting hard not to think of all the ways he has come close to losing her.
After a few more minutes she stirs slightly, and her breathing changes enough that he knows she's awake, and smiles.
"Morning."
>>>in summary: Crap. I have issues- I didn't realize there were that many fics lying around unfinished. I haven't even opened my flash drive. *hides*