Sark became painfully aware of the concrete as a demon with hair a color red that is usually reserved for cherry suckers and certain cars tackled him before he could get three feet from his car. For a brief moment, he wondered if evading the Organization for seventeen years had finally caught up with him. He knew when he joined up that it wasn't a ( Read more... )

In an ideal situation, Sark would not be the one on this mission and this was something that both he and Sydney could agree on. It was firmly below his station (then again, Torchwood's obsession with teaching him humility seemed to lean towards putting him on missions that were always below his station, so that wasn't a surprise) and it was Bristow ( Read more... )

Sark spent twenty minutes calculating whether or not he owed Harkness anything at all. Certainly, the man had saved his life, but considering a few months ago, Harkness's sadistic alter ego had rammed a metal skewer into his chest, he'd like to think that they were even now. Evidently, he was wrong.
"We would hate to impose on you," the Weevil went ( Read more... )

Fact: There's what appears to be a red-headed fourteen-year-old girl standing in front of him.

Fact: She seems to be calling him "Dad," despite the fact that he absolutely knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he is far too young to have a fourteen-year-old daughter.

Fact: He's also 100% certain that he has no children in general, because that's ( Read more... )

Oh, why the hell not? I could use some crack in my life. Stolen shamelessly from senseofliberty and Bekathing.

Leave a comment and I will come up with the hypothetical kid between any of my muses and any of yours. I'm equal opportunity -- adoption counts just as much as organically produced babies (or even surrogacy!).. Or, hell, it could even be random ( Read more... )

You Are a White Tiger
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