and then springtime called my name.
Re-Animator.
West. A new variety of gardening and an impossible ménage à trois.
Just a drabble that's been rattling around for far too long. It's West/Dan/Meg. Sort of. (Jeffrey Combs, I love you just a little too much.)
Death springs back to life, cultivated and refined beneath his fingertips. Tendons are roots, weeding and stretching and reaching and gasping towards him, and he smiles, a nasty curl of the lips, tapping sinewy tendrils back into place with the care and expertise of a gardener arranging stray buds.
Meg's heart pulses surely under his hand. Perfect. Preserved. She'll breathe with new lungs, gaze at the world through clearer eyes; become far more understanding than she ever was in her first life. Indebted to them both, but more, certainly, to him.
They'd have been beautiful together, the three of them.
West. A new variety of gardening and an impossible ménage à trois.
Just a drabble that's been rattling around for far too long. It's West/Dan/Meg. Sort of. (Jeffrey Combs, I love you just a little too much.)
Death springs back to life, cultivated and refined beneath his fingertips. Tendons are roots, weeding and stretching and reaching and gasping towards him, and he smiles, a nasty curl of the lips, tapping sinewy tendrils back into place with the care and expertise of a gardener arranging stray buds.
Meg's heart pulses surely under his hand. Perfect. Preserved. She'll breathe with new lungs, gaze at the world through clearer eyes; become far more understanding than she ever was in her first life. Indebted to them both, but more, certainly, to him.
They'd have been beautiful together, the three of them.