My Thoughtcrimes drabbles
So that they're all in the same place. They were originally in the drabble tree over here at she_knows_all
The guidelines were:
1. Each drabble has to start with a word that ended a previous drabble [I followed that rule although the ones below are my drabbles only]
2. The drabble should be 100 words, although I doubt anyone will enforce that strictly :)
3. The drabbles do not have to connect in any other way but the single word.
4. Put a warning in your subject line if it's R-rated or above.
"Sssh, don't try to move too soon," Brendan murmured, anxiety in his voice.
"What happened?" Her eyes opened slowly.
"The guy was clinically insane. According to Michael, bringing you within 10 feet of him was like clobbering you over the head with a sledgehammer. Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Freya mumbled.
He brushed her hair from her face. “You dropped like a stone - scared the crap out of me.”
“You scare too easily,” she told him. Then she frowned. “This couch is like rock,” she complained.
“No gratitude. It was that or the floor,” he told her.
Freya glanced down. “Oh.”
“Protested is a bit extreme,” Michael denied.
Freya lifted an eyebrow.
“I prefer, ‘expressed my reluctance to attend’.”
Freya was silent and Michael looked unsettled. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He scowled. “Have I suddenly lost the ability to block?”
“No, but your feelings on the matter are so strong that I really don’t need to read your mind.”
“Why does Brendan say we have to go?”
“They’re the wives of the diplomats. Brendan says they know things …. we can’t pass up this opportunity.”
“For me to be ogled by sex-starved housewives?”
“Your country needs you.”
Later ….always thought I’d have time to tell you later ….
“Brendan?” Freya stiffened.
“Where is he?” Michael demanded.
You’re gonna ask me where I am … I wish I knew… There was a moment’s silence. I can’t see anymore … can’t move ..
“He’s dying” Freya whispered. “He’s in so much pain.”
I don’t even know if you can hear me, Freya. I hope you can. Wish I’d had the time to say everything… I meant to say. But you and me - we kicked ass. Goodbye Freya.
Tears slid down Freya’s cheeks silently.
“Michael - he’s gone.”
“Start talking or you’re going to wish you went up with that bomb,” Brendan said grimly.
“Bite me,” the man snarled.a
“He doesn’t know anything, Brendan - he’s just a stupid flunky.”
“Who you calling stupid, bitch?” the man demanded.
“Be polite or I’ll break your other arm,” Brendan said absently, “Like nothing?” He demanded of Freya.
“Sorry. They told him to deliver the package, paid him and he did as he was told.”
“Any details on who paid him? A description maybe?” Brendan asked her.
“Hey! I’m right here!” the man exclaimed.
“Shut up.” Freya and Brendan said in unison.
“You are out of your mind!” Brendan almost shouted.
“I can do it, Brendan,” Freya protested.
“There’s no way I’m letting her go in there on her own.”
“If you go in there with me you’ll put them all on their guard. I’ll be safe.”
“Safe is not a word I think about in connection with that place.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Stop acting like you're my bodyguard.”
A muscle moved in Brendan’s jaw. He was silent for a long moment.
“Brendan?” Freya asked him. He didn’t reply. She frowned. He was blocking but she tried anyway.
Out of my head, Freya. His voice was grim.
Smiled was one way to describe the expression on her face. Maybe grimaced.
"I am not wearing a fluffy pink dress, June," Freya protested.
"It's not fluffy and it's rose not pink. I suppose it was too much to ask for you to be a bit more accommodating on my wedding."
There was a choking sound from the shop entrance. Brendan stood gaping at Freya in shock.
"Shut up, Brendan!"
"I didn't say anything!"
"You were going to."
"Tell her she looks lovely.”
"She looks like a meringue."
At June's thunderous look Brendan added hastily. "We gotta go. Our guy's on the move."
"Yes," Freya exclaimed, hurtling towards the door.
"Change first - that thing scares the crap out of even me."
"Me?"
"Yeah you," Brendan mumbled as he allowed his fingertip to slide down her bare hip with tender slowness.
"How was it for you?" Freya teased him, sprawled out beside him in his bed, half the linen on the floor.
"And you know exactly how it was for me," he told her in a low voice, pressing a kiss to the base of her throat.
"It was the same for me," she whispered, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him back to her.
"I didn't cry," he protested, giving her his characteristic scowl.
"Yeah you did."
He laughed.
The guidelines were:
1. Each drabble has to start with a word that ended a previous drabble [I followed that rule although the ones below are my drabbles only]
2. The drabble should be 100 words, although I doubt anyone will enforce that strictly :)
3. The drabbles do not have to connect in any other way but the single word.
4. Put a warning in your subject line if it's R-rated or above.
"Sssh, don't try to move too soon," Brendan murmured, anxiety in his voice.
"What happened?" Her eyes opened slowly.
"The guy was clinically insane. According to Michael, bringing you within 10 feet of him was like clobbering you over the head with a sledgehammer. Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Freya mumbled.
He brushed her hair from her face. “You dropped like a stone - scared the crap out of me.”
“You scare too easily,” she told him. Then she frowned. “This couch is like rock,” she complained.
“No gratitude. It was that or the floor,” he told her.
Freya glanced down. “Oh.”
“Protested is a bit extreme,” Michael denied.
Freya lifted an eyebrow.
“I prefer, ‘expressed my reluctance to attend’.”
Freya was silent and Michael looked unsettled. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He scowled. “Have I suddenly lost the ability to block?”
“No, but your feelings on the matter are so strong that I really don’t need to read your mind.”
“Why does Brendan say we have to go?”
“They’re the wives of the diplomats. Brendan says they know things …. we can’t pass up this opportunity.”
“For me to be ogled by sex-starved housewives?”
“Your country needs you.”
Later ….always thought I’d have time to tell you later ….
“Brendan?” Freya stiffened.
“Where is he?” Michael demanded.
You’re gonna ask me where I am … I wish I knew… There was a moment’s silence. I can’t see anymore … can’t move ..
“He’s dying” Freya whispered. “He’s in so much pain.”
I don’t even know if you can hear me, Freya. I hope you can. Wish I’d had the time to say everything… I meant to say. But you and me - we kicked ass. Goodbye Freya.
Tears slid down Freya’s cheeks silently.
“Michael - he’s gone.”
“Start talking or you’re going to wish you went up with that bomb,” Brendan said grimly.
“Bite me,” the man snarled.a
“He doesn’t know anything, Brendan - he’s just a stupid flunky.”
“Who you calling stupid, bitch?” the man demanded.
“Be polite or I’ll break your other arm,” Brendan said absently, “Like nothing?” He demanded of Freya.
“Sorry. They told him to deliver the package, paid him and he did as he was told.”
“Any details on who paid him? A description maybe?” Brendan asked her.
“Hey! I’m right here!” the man exclaimed.
“Shut up.” Freya and Brendan said in unison.
“You are out of your mind!” Brendan almost shouted.
“I can do it, Brendan,” Freya protested.
“There’s no way I’m letting her go in there on her own.”
“If you go in there with me you’ll put them all on their guard. I’ll be safe.”
“Safe is not a word I think about in connection with that place.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Stop acting like you're my bodyguard.”
A muscle moved in Brendan’s jaw. He was silent for a long moment.
“Brendan?” Freya asked him. He didn’t reply. She frowned. He was blocking but she tried anyway.
Out of my head, Freya. His voice was grim.
Smiled was one way to describe the expression on her face. Maybe grimaced.
"I am not wearing a fluffy pink dress, June," Freya protested.
"It's not fluffy and it's rose not pink. I suppose it was too much to ask for you to be a bit more accommodating on my wedding."
There was a choking sound from the shop entrance. Brendan stood gaping at Freya in shock.
"Shut up, Brendan!"
"I didn't say anything!"
"You were going to."
"Tell her she looks lovely.”
"She looks like a meringue."
At June's thunderous look Brendan added hastily. "We gotta go. Our guy's on the move."
"Yes," Freya exclaimed, hurtling towards the door.
"Change first - that thing scares the crap out of even me."
"Me?"
"Yeah you," Brendan mumbled as he allowed his fingertip to slide down her bare hip with tender slowness.
"How was it for you?" Freya teased him, sprawled out beside him in his bed, half the linen on the floor.
"And you know exactly how it was for me," he told her in a low voice, pressing a kiss to the base of her throat.
"It was the same for me," she whispered, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him back to her.
"I didn't cry," he protested, giving her his characteristic scowl.
"Yeah you did."
He laughed.