Meme: WIPs
Via settiai
Post a sentence (or paragraph) or two from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached.
(Some of these are fics I started ages ago; some are more recent.)
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Jack grinned. “Captain Jack Harkness, at your service,” he said.
The man nodded. “They warned me about you.”
“Oh? And what sort of warning might that be?”
“That I should keep my pants on at all times.”
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As the days grew shorter and the evenings colder, they often managed to slip in an extra drink or three, neither of them particularly eager to head back out into the cold damp air. It was late November when the pub started piping Christmas music through the speakers, and Gwen laughed at the expression of horror that washed over Ianto’s face whenever that Mariah Carey song from the 90s came on.
When Gwen asked him about it, he mumbled something about a school pantomime and a malfunctioning frog costume by way of explanation.
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“He must have been special, the man who gave you that coat.”
“Huh?”
Alonso can tell that Jack is more surprised than he wants to let on. “What, you think you’re the only person around here who’s allowed to be psychic?”
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Tosh shook her head ruefully. “You would’ve thought I’d never seen an alien before, the way I reacted to that thing. And then when it came back to life, and all those soldiers burst in, pointing guns at me-” She broke off with a shudder. “I thought-I thought for a moment that they were going to take me back-to that place,” she whispered.
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” said Jack.
“Like I said,” said Tosh, managing a small smile, “being silly.”
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She spends the first part of the evening pacing around her living room and into the kitchen, but she heads upstairs when she sees Gita looking across the road at her house, as though pondering whether or not to come over. Sarah Jane turns all the lights off, and hopes that Gita will think she’s gone to sleep. She knows that the other woman means well, and she’ll have to face her sometime, but right now, Sarah Jane can’t bear the thought of pity.
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Mitchell takes a moment to steady himself as he slowly turns the doorknob. George may not be able to kill him in human form, but he could still do Mitchell an injury, an injury that would take blood to-
He closes his eyes and wills himself not to think about that.
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To test my theory, I allowed myself to brush against Watson briefly as he observed my haemoglobin experiments, and my suspicions were confirmed when he discreetly stepped away and placed his hat, which he still held in his left hand, across the front of his trousers. I felt most gratified that the application of my scientific methods had once again yielded results.
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Post a sentence (or paragraph) or two from as many of your WIPs as you want, with no explanation attached.
(Some of these are fics I started ages ago; some are more recent.)
------------------------------------------
Jack grinned. “Captain Jack Harkness, at your service,” he said.
The man nodded. “They warned me about you.”
“Oh? And what sort of warning might that be?”
“That I should keep my pants on at all times.”
------------------------------------------
As the days grew shorter and the evenings colder, they often managed to slip in an extra drink or three, neither of them particularly eager to head back out into the cold damp air. It was late November when the pub started piping Christmas music through the speakers, and Gwen laughed at the expression of horror that washed over Ianto’s face whenever that Mariah Carey song from the 90s came on.
When Gwen asked him about it, he mumbled something about a school pantomime and a malfunctioning frog costume by way of explanation.
------------------------------------------
“He must have been special, the man who gave you that coat.”
“Huh?”
Alonso can tell that Jack is more surprised than he wants to let on. “What, you think you’re the only person around here who’s allowed to be psychic?”
------------------------------------------
Tosh shook her head ruefully. “You would’ve thought I’d never seen an alien before, the way I reacted to that thing. And then when it came back to life, and all those soldiers burst in, pointing guns at me-” She broke off with a shudder. “I thought-I thought for a moment that they were going to take me back-to that place,” she whispered.
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” said Jack.
“Like I said,” said Tosh, managing a small smile, “being silly.”
------------------------------------------
She spends the first part of the evening pacing around her living room and into the kitchen, but she heads upstairs when she sees Gita looking across the road at her house, as though pondering whether or not to come over. Sarah Jane turns all the lights off, and hopes that Gita will think she’s gone to sleep. She knows that the other woman means well, and she’ll have to face her sometime, but right now, Sarah Jane can’t bear the thought of pity.
------------------------------------------
Mitchell takes a moment to steady himself as he slowly turns the doorknob. George may not be able to kill him in human form, but he could still do Mitchell an injury, an injury that would take blood to-
He closes his eyes and wills himself not to think about that.
------------------------------------------
To test my theory, I allowed myself to brush against Watson briefly as he observed my haemoglobin experiments, and my suspicions were confirmed when he discreetly stepped away and placed his hat, which he still held in his left hand, across the front of his trousers. I felt most gratified that the application of my scientific methods had once again yielded results.
------------------------------------------