True story: I would probably be spamming you with Harry/Ruth YT clips, since that's the mood I'm in.
GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO THIS AFTERNOON, INTERNET:
The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request a drabble of ANY pairing/character of their choosing (of ANY fandom) from me (with a prompt? maybe? sincerely, me). In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level. THAT'S A STUPID CAVEAT.
Let's test ( Read more... )
The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request a drabble of ANY pairing/character of their choosing (of ANY fandom) from me (with a prompt? maybe? sincerely, me). In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level. THAT'S A STUPID CAVEAT.
Let's test ( Read more... )
But then Gene starts seeing it, too.
It's a slap in the face, really, the way his whole body goes rigid as they're walking to the car, him tugging at her arm to stop moving like she's a child running into a crowded street. Time, whatever that is, stops. Her throat gets dry. Her ears plug up; everything is muffled, quiet, nothing important. Almost belatedly, her skin prickles.
Sam.
She thinks maybe Gene says his name, but she's not sure. Sounds bounce around her brain like the perfect explanation. It's the sound of relief, of something slotting into place and yet scattering all the pieces.
A car passes between them and him.
Sam is gone.
"Right," Gene announces. "Luigi's."
Four full glasses of wine later, Gene says to her, quietly, "You've infected us, bolls. We're a colony of lepers now."
A laugh in the distance, glasses clinking together behind them. "S'zombies, actually."
"Zombies?"
"Mmhmm. The walking dead."
Gene leans back in his chair, appraising her. Everything about this should scare her - SamSamSamit'snotrealyou'redead Samistheangel Samishere to take you home whereyoubelongAlex DEAD DEADYOUAREGONE youarenothing who couldn't save her parents can't come to her own daughter's party can't protect her from scum like Arthur Layton butheJUMPEDSamCHOSE and I i I I was pushed this isn't fair it's nice; sometimes - everything, and then Gene, he lights a cigarette.
She's calm.
-
Sam sitting in the interview room, a reflection in the shiny table but no corporeal counterpart. Sam on the news, among some protesters. Sam in her flat.
Sam at Luigi's. That ends up badly. She doesn't remember how she got upstairs to her couch that night.
"I hear him," Gene confesses, apropos of nothing.
"What," she leans in, shoulder banging his as a result, "what's he say?"
Gene looks down at her, says nothing.
-
The Quattro rips around a corner into the alley. They nearly plow right into him; Sam Tyler just walks right out into the street like it's nothing. "Guv!" Gene slams on the brakes so hard her heart is in her throat.
For God's sake, they could have killed him. (She appreciates the irony of that later.)
Her chest is heaving. She can hear Gene's heartbeat. Belatedly she also hears the turn signal clicking, which seems strange.
Sam stares at them for a long time. Nobody moves.
That's when Gene decides - shifts into reverse and runs away. Backs out onto the street they came from, shifts again, and they're gone. They drive, and drive, and drive, going nowhere, going somewhere or anywhere, it doesn't matter. They just keep going faster.
"Stop the car, Guv," she says, eventually.
He won't.
"I said stop the car."
He's not listening to her.
"I SAID STOP THE BLOODY CAR, GENE. STOP IT RIGHT NOW."
He grunts, coming to a full stop with a flourish that spins them halfway around in what's thankfully a wide and deserted road. He kills the engine and slams his hands against the steering wheel in frustration.
She's still struggling to catch her breath. "What does he say to you?" she asks again.
He fixes her with a look she can't read, then exhales. "'Hope you're happy, too.'"
She stops breathing. Then it - clicks; everything, something, nothing, she can't explain it - Sam is your angel, Bolly, he's come to take you where you bel-- so she drowns it out with the sudden of her seatbelt unclicking, with reaching for him, kissing him like it's the only thing in the world that makes sense, and pulling herself across the gear shift and into his lap, steering wheel cutting her back and she's just so beyond caring. His tongue in her mouth yesohmygodYES, kissing her back and she wants him, hands on her tits her waist her ass that tiny gasp of a laugh that curls in her throat when he does that and him saying "Jesus, Bolls," but it's too loud. Halfway trying to get out of her coat, her elbow hits the horn.
Ashes to ash, and funk to funky.
We know Major Tom's a junkie.
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HOLY.
FUCKING.
SHIT.
YES.
(Seriously, way to give me a truly epic number of ideas for your prompt. Ashes to Ashes, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY BRAIN?)
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YAY.
I WANT THIS TO BE REAL, BY THE WAY.
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ok.
i sort of fell sideways into your journal, through pieces and her lynley love, and i followed your quattro'd icon and i'm really glad i did, because OH MY GOD. ghost-angel-sam and nihilistic alex and genegenegene.
i'm gonna have to add you in case of more fic (also: bones! pretender!) but feel no compulsion to reciprocate.
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OKAY. HI. I definitely don't think I can promise Pretender, eponymous LJ name aside (oh, seven years ago, you) (you never know! but yeah), BUT I CAN promise more, much more Bones. *stares at open GoogleDocs document* Um, yes.
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yeah, no, i get 7 years ago love for a particular fandom. (i only just got a random flashback to pretender when watching leverage and deciding that parker was obviously debbie broots.) but bones! yay!
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i think i wrote fanfic for your fanfic. rumours that are completely unsubstantiated.
*scurries away*
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Oh, that's fucking awesome.
Only half way through the 2nd season but I had to have FIC!!! And this was a rec. Comment fic too! Awesome again!
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