House MD: Three-point Landing - RaramuinMarch 4 2007, 04:06:22 UTC
Gregory House considered himself (in absolute and total privacy of his head)to be the luckiest bastard to grace the halls of medicine. So he had had three hours of clinic beyond his usual torment! So Cuddy had seen fit to mire him in paperwork! So Cameron had-...actually, no, that incident was one he was not going to be thinking about for a while. Thinking about things quietly led to thinking about things out loud and that led to ruffled feathers and sleeping on the couch for a week.
Instead, he occupied himself with parking his bike, popping a few pills (Wilson still wanted him to cut back and House had compromised by cutting back on the number of pills Wilson saw him take. Mutually satisfactory arrangement!) and fumbling for his keys
( ... )
Re: House MD: Three-point Landing - RdeannawolMarch 5 2007, 20:21:49 UTC
I love debauched!Chase. In fact, I would love to read more debauched!Chase if you have a chance. And the dynamic following this. Is there morning after awkwardness and angelic!sleeping Chase?
CSI : Warrick/Nick - All in the Game - 15aramuinMarch 5 2007, 01:19:01 UTC
See, the important thing is that they're still friends.
Because they were friends long before they started gettin' jiggy in the bedroom and it means that they both know a lot of shit that the average girlfriend wouldn't. Nick in particular knows shit about Warrick that even his mama don't know.
He knows that Warrick's gambling problem isn't really a gambling problem, it's just a problem that expresses itself through gambling. He knows that Warrick lies to his shrink sometimes and leaves to find another one if the good doctor fails to spot the falsehood. He knows how to get Warrick back for that next appointment regardless. He knows most of Warrick's kinks and that Lady Heather's emporium is one of those places he's always wanted to visit but never had the balls to risk running in to Grissom there
( ... )
SPN: Sam/Dean - Recovery - RaramuinMarch 5 2007, 21:06:22 UTC
He wonders about it just before he goes in.
Two weeks and he's in the latest rundown motel room, methodically cleaning and reloading the guns. Across from him, glimpsed through the barrel of the shotgun and the pistol chambers, is the second bed; all smooth and immaculate and totally-fuckin'-empty.
He wants to believe that he'd have kept searching anyway. Wants to believe that he'd have been here, loading the consecrated silver and salt shells into all the guns he can carry. Waiting for nightfall to go hunting for the thing that took his brother.
The truth is more complicated.
He'd found the demon - the one they were in Assfuck, Ohio looking for in the first place - and he'd kicked the shit out of that motherfucker. Not just with his hands, he'd grabbed the little silver hipflask and the holy water hissed loud enough to be heard over its screaming. He tells himself he was looking for information but that is a lie
( ... )
Holy Crap! Wasn't expecting it to be Sam. Christ. So good, so surprising. Loved the blood on skin and cock in mouth line. Is it bad that I now have a tribble about the reunification?
CSI-Vegas: Nick/Warrick, "locker room sports"
House MD: House/Wilson/Chase, "new recruit"
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Instead, he occupied himself with parking his bike, popping a few pills (Wilson still wanted him to cut back and House had compromised by cutting back on the number of pills Wilson saw him take. Mutually satisfactory arrangement!) and fumbling for his keys ( ... )
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*puppy eyes*
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I may try at some point. But the muse demands ice-cream in return! >3
Glad you liked!
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Because they were friends long before they started gettin' jiggy in the bedroom and it means that they both know a lot of shit that the average girlfriend wouldn't. Nick in particular knows shit about Warrick that even his mama don't know.
He knows that Warrick's gambling problem isn't really a gambling problem, it's just a problem that expresses itself through gambling. He knows that Warrick lies to his shrink sometimes and leaves to find another one if the good doctor fails to spot the falsehood. He knows how to get Warrick back for that next appointment regardless. He knows most of Warrick's kinks and that Lady Heather's emporium is one of those places he's always wanted to visit but never had the balls to risk running in to Grissom there ( ... )
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Two weeks and he's in the latest rundown motel room, methodically cleaning and reloading the guns. Across from him, glimpsed through the barrel of the shotgun and the pistol chambers, is the second bed; all smooth and immaculate and totally-fuckin'-empty.
He wants to believe that he'd have kept searching anyway. Wants to believe that he'd have been here, loading the consecrated silver and salt shells into all the guns he can carry. Waiting for nightfall to go hunting for the thing that took his brother.
The truth is more complicated.
He'd found the demon - the one they were in Assfuck, Ohio looking for in the first place - and he'd kicked the shit out of that motherfucker. Not just with his hands, he'd grabbed the little silver hipflask and the holy water hissed loud enough to be heard over its screaming. He tells himself he was looking for information but that is a lie ( ... )
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