70.
AU THREE SENTENCE MEME, RPF AND OTHERWISE: Give me multiple pairings. Give me an AU setting. I will write you a three-sentence fic.There's a Scared Straight marathon on right now and I need to peel my gaze away. I'd go and read about mobsters and the nuclear apocalypse, but my roommate is having the rest of her meltdown right now. And on Web MD
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"Goddamn Russians," she says, and they're walking into some shit warehouse because Crews is all interested in talking a few of them down or some weird, stupid idea that involves fruits - because, jesus, it's Crews and leave it to his signature to become fucking orange peels or something.
But the warehouse is still legit and Dani's been tracking the Queen since she was sixteen because she's made a life out of finishing up family debt; it's not the smartest thing to do since Jack Reese never met a corner he couldn't talk himself out of or deal he couldn't close because now, now people are lookin' right at her and thinking, hey, hey she's going to be the same kind of thing. Doesn't bode well when there's a legit stake in their heart or whatever.
It's just that Crews has this thing with the Queen too and she's standing there (or, well, not really, she's ripping through because one of the fucking Russians has to be an asshole and call her a little girl) waiting for him to finally make his move, when it becomes nothing more than a simple bullet to her head and then one to her heart; they both watch it explode, rip really, right through the vamp's chest because wooden bullets are useful in the right hands and really, really, she's just gearing up to go home and try not to drink herself to sleep, you know, and live to kill another day when he's grabbing her by the hand and smiling.
"Papayas!" he exclaims. "Brazilian, of course, but let's go have papayas - well, for me. And I'll get you a milkshake too."
This is why they work. Well, sometimes.
baby's got a pair of mighty fine boots (Glee, Puck/Rachel)
B is not Santana's friend, they just, like, fucking work together or something; Santana tells him if she had fucking friends, it would B - or someone kinda like B - it's just that she and Puck are drunk most of the time they're drunk because killing vampires, it's hard enough with all that bullshit.
He meets B (Rachel) some Saturday in the city, at the bar and scrapping guts off the front of her jacket, her nose wrinkling as her nails slide over the leather; it's the good shit too because he can smell it a mile away and if it's the good shit, the kill must've been something else. But she's hot, jesus, she's hot and there's tits and he's all about the tits until he goes and sees her legs, too long and tight and it's that life's not fair because she's smilin' all nice and pretty, her eyes real soft and warm and he can see why Santana stays around.
"It'll never work between us," he drawls, and she laughs; it's a week later, when he eats his words.
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