The Vending Machine meme! (Economy!Blaise..and what OTP?!)
1. Thank you to everyone who filled out the poll! It was mildly surprising and very interesting.
2. Today by onecrimsontie. I've recced this before, but I'm doing it again because I just re-read it. This fic is an unbelievable piece of work. It's the trio, gen-fic, and you should read it because it is really, really good. It's also short as one-shots go, so ( Read more... )
2. Today by onecrimsontie. I've recced this before, but I'm doing it again because I just re-read it. This fic is an unbelievable piece of work. It's the trio, gen-fic, and you should read it because it is really, really good. It's also short as one-shots go, so ( Read more... )
They stood in the hotel room, glaring at each other through the darkness, seeing each other clearly. The gun heavy in her hand, Sydney dropped it with a heavy thud and stepped forward into his space.
“What are you doing?” Sark’s voice was wary and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
She fitted her hips to his and felt, rather than heard, him inhale sharply. The hard chest against her tightened, muscles bunching as he sucked in air.
“Sydney,” he said, voice tight and a bit like a gasp.
Sydney twined her arms around his neck, hands tangling in the soft hair that curls at the nape of his neck, determined to make him hush and say nothing that was not an agreement. In retrospect, she should have known that Sark would never make things easy for her.
Sark pulled away from her, his face unreadable.
“Agent Bristow,” and now his voice was sharp, “You’ve made a mistake.”
To be told of it, to be reminded so bluntly, was very cruel. No doubt he had intended for it to be that way. She knew Sark could be charming. She knew he could sugarcoat words. To be so succinct, so acerbic and terse, that was deliberate.
“You want me,” she said furiously.
He held her gaze steadily, unembarrassed. “It’s a biological reaction, Agent Bristow. I apologize if I unknowingly led you to believe a false conclusion. It wasn’t done on purpose.”
“Liar,” Sydney said, and then suggested coldly, “Tell me the truth, Sark, I can take it. Explain it to me. You can’t deny you wouldn’t like to throw this in Vaughn’s face the next time you see him.”
“Some things are bigger than revenge,” Sark said quietly. “I won’t be used, Agent Bristow.” She must have made a movement because he gripped her wrist and yanked her against him before she could tell him to get his hands off her. Holding her still against him, he whispered, “Not this way, Sydney.”
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Well, Leila, you've kind of shot yourself in the foot here. Because you've done such a fabulous job with this that I now see it as my personal duty to badger you incessantly for more. Or, at the very least, beseech you in my most winning style.
Please, more. This ... just ... guh. I'll consider it a birthday present. ;) And I'll even let you give me a Sarkney prompt, that I'll have ready for your birthday. (Since, y'know, they're the same day and all.) Deal? Or no deal?
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LOL. DEAL. I LOOK FORWARD TO IT OMG. KERRY IS WRITING SARKNEY. *runs wildly around* Okay, prompt (all I can think of): Babylon or Sark surprising Sydney in some way or "Do you ever use your tactical driving and evasion training to get out of traffic?"
EEEEEEE *giddy*
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Prompt accepted, with much delighted squeeing. I really NEED to get excited about writing again.
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And YES! It's been a while since I've read your writing, and OMG. Your first time writing Sarkney, right? *anticipates* I'm excited for two here.
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