works of progress
Ah! Fun typo! I just caught that I'd written "the angel of Rodney's mouth" rather than "the angle of Rodney's mouth."
Okay, I'm setting aside the exclamation marks now.
1) Freedom Hangs Like Heaven Over Everyone. SGA, gen, alternate timeline for S3, now late for artword
“Don’t over-extend yourself, Rodney. We aren’t in an emergency situation. By all means, get the Orion repaired, but time is not of the essence.”
Rodney meets her eyes with a cold certainty.
“It is if they think they’re getting rid of you and Sheppard.”
Elizabeth doesn’t pretend to misunderstand him. She considers it for a moment, breathes deeply, and nods.
(((twincy is making cool art for this one)))
......
2) untitled. CSI:NY, Flack/Danny, NC-17, post-"Sleight out of Hand," Flack is not jealous.
Don pushes his fingers in, shorting out Danny’s ability to talk. It’s good, Danny’s body smooth and tight and yielding to him. He shouldn’t have bothered with making Danny beg. It didn’t mean anything more than Danny wanted to come. It didn’t mean a goddamn thing. He and Danny have always been fuck buddies at best, and Don has no illusions about that.
......
3) Here Is No Water. CSI:NY, Mac/Danny, R, summer post-S1 and post-S2, I have no idea where this story is going. 610 words of agony that I don't want to trash but don't know what to do with.
“Hey, Mac.” Danny’s holding up a large evidence bag and wading toward Mac through the glimmering air. “Someone ditched a bloody sweatshirt in the dumpster. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some DNA that doesn’t belong to the victim.” Danny’s voice is flat and clinical, and Mac is hit again with that wash of the uncanny, the heat on the ground, the violent air.
It takes Mac too long to reply.
......
4) I Have Come Across This Place By Lost Ways. SGA, John/Rodney, earthside during "The Return," first time.
Rodney’s voice comes through just as clear in the plain text of an e-mail. His voice, and the after-image of his hands, and the angle of his mouth.
John tries to remember what Antarctica felt like, and how he’d gladly wiped everything blank there. How he’d made the clean stretch of ice a part of himself. He should do that again, reset, but he’s not entirely sure he wants to. Like with Rodney, he calls it a draw because he doubts he has much choice in the matter. If he wants to go through the gate, if he wants a chance to fly the jumper ever again, he’ll find some compromise, like he always has.
When John goes back to his bare apartment, he’s careful not to jerk off to the memory of Rodney’s voice.
......
5) The Underpainting. Crossover between Thoughtcrimes and Cypher, sort of Brendan Dean/Virgil Dunn. Here be massive what-the-fuckery. I have no idea why I wrote an extended outline/very rough first draft for this the other day. Brendan Dean is an NSA agent played by Joe Flanigan; his partner is a telepath. Virgil Dunn is onscreen for less than ten minutes and is played by David Hewlett; Virgil works for a very dodgy and dystopian corporation and got sent to man a huge underground data vault when computers supposedly made his ability to detect lies obsolete.
They go to the surface, and it’s daytime. The sky is huge and blue, and Virgil blinks, his eyes stinging. He forgot how far away the sky was, and he walks forward, out of the threshold’s shadow, with his neck tilted back.
Dean’s hand is warm and squeezes his shoulder. He’s saying something inane, but Virgil tunes it out. The sky arches wide, smeared with whispy clouds. Finally Virgil focuses back on Dean, whose eyes are crinkling in a smile, but the horizon looms past his shoulders. The green fields unfold around them, and Virigl promptly has a panic attack.
“Fuck, fuck,” he repeats through grit teeth, trembling as Dean leads him back to the threshold.
“Are you agoraphobic?”
“Never. Never was before-I don’t think.” Virgil takes a deep, gasping breathe and feels light-headed. “I don’t think I was.”
......
6) untitled. CSI:NY, Adam/Danny, R or NC-17, post-"Heart of Glass," the three beer queer story. I found about a page of handwritten draft while looking through the notebook; I had forgotten I wrote anything for this story, which has been kicking around my head for about a month.
Right on cue, Danny’s hand wanders over and brushes against the outside of Adam’s thigh. Adam tosses the control to the coffee table and stretches. The beer and the couple of times they’ve traded handjobs in the past combine to make Adam relax into something like recklessness.
Most of the time Danny talks a good talk, but he would never have the stones to admit he likes cock too.
......
7) untitled bigbang piece. SGA, John/Rodney, futurefic. I almost left this one off the list, but didn't. I've written the very opening but pretty much hate how I've written it. I've also written the skeleton of a fairly pivotal scene set two-thirds through the piece. This is the paragraph from the short opening scene that I hate the least.
The city hums at the base of his skull, warm and concerned. John takes a deep breath. There are voices pelting down the hall, and Teyla is still repeating his name. He tightens his grip on the baretta again, a reflex, then breaks into a cold sweat because jesus fuck, who else did he hurt.
Okay, I'm setting aside the exclamation marks now.
1) Freedom Hangs Like Heaven Over Everyone. SGA, gen, alternate timeline for S3, now late for artword
“Don’t over-extend yourself, Rodney. We aren’t in an emergency situation. By all means, get the Orion repaired, but time is not of the essence.”
Rodney meets her eyes with a cold certainty.
“It is if they think they’re getting rid of you and Sheppard.”
Elizabeth doesn’t pretend to misunderstand him. She considers it for a moment, breathes deeply, and nods.
(((twincy is making cool art for this one)))
......
2) untitled. CSI:NY, Flack/Danny, NC-17, post-"Sleight out of Hand," Flack is not jealous.
Don pushes his fingers in, shorting out Danny’s ability to talk. It’s good, Danny’s body smooth and tight and yielding to him. He shouldn’t have bothered with making Danny beg. It didn’t mean anything more than Danny wanted to come. It didn’t mean a goddamn thing. He and Danny have always been fuck buddies at best, and Don has no illusions about that.
......
3) Here Is No Water. CSI:NY, Mac/Danny, R, summer post-S1 and post-S2, I have no idea where this story is going. 610 words of agony that I don't want to trash but don't know what to do with.
“Hey, Mac.” Danny’s holding up a large evidence bag and wading toward Mac through the glimmering air. “Someone ditched a bloody sweatshirt in the dumpster. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some DNA that doesn’t belong to the victim.” Danny’s voice is flat and clinical, and Mac is hit again with that wash of the uncanny, the heat on the ground, the violent air.
It takes Mac too long to reply.
......
4) I Have Come Across This Place By Lost Ways. SGA, John/Rodney, earthside during "The Return," first time.
Rodney’s voice comes through just as clear in the plain text of an e-mail. His voice, and the after-image of his hands, and the angle of his mouth.
John tries to remember what Antarctica felt like, and how he’d gladly wiped everything blank there. How he’d made the clean stretch of ice a part of himself. He should do that again, reset, but he’s not entirely sure he wants to. Like with Rodney, he calls it a draw because he doubts he has much choice in the matter. If he wants to go through the gate, if he wants a chance to fly the jumper ever again, he’ll find some compromise, like he always has.
When John goes back to his bare apartment, he’s careful not to jerk off to the memory of Rodney’s voice.
......
5) The Underpainting. Crossover between Thoughtcrimes and Cypher, sort of Brendan Dean/Virgil Dunn. Here be massive what-the-fuckery. I have no idea why I wrote an extended outline/very rough first draft for this the other day. Brendan Dean is an NSA agent played by Joe Flanigan; his partner is a telepath. Virgil Dunn is onscreen for less than ten minutes and is played by David Hewlett; Virgil works for a very dodgy and dystopian corporation and got sent to man a huge underground data vault when computers supposedly made his ability to detect lies obsolete.
They go to the surface, and it’s daytime. The sky is huge and blue, and Virgil blinks, his eyes stinging. He forgot how far away the sky was, and he walks forward, out of the threshold’s shadow, with his neck tilted back.
Dean’s hand is warm and squeezes his shoulder. He’s saying something inane, but Virgil tunes it out. The sky arches wide, smeared with whispy clouds. Finally Virgil focuses back on Dean, whose eyes are crinkling in a smile, but the horizon looms past his shoulders. The green fields unfold around them, and Virigl promptly has a panic attack.
“Fuck, fuck,” he repeats through grit teeth, trembling as Dean leads him back to the threshold.
“Are you agoraphobic?”
“Never. Never was before-I don’t think.” Virgil takes a deep, gasping breathe and feels light-headed. “I don’t think I was.”
......
6) untitled. CSI:NY, Adam/Danny, R or NC-17, post-"Heart of Glass," the three beer queer story. I found about a page of handwritten draft while looking through the notebook; I had forgotten I wrote anything for this story, which has been kicking around my head for about a month.
Right on cue, Danny’s hand wanders over and brushes against the outside of Adam’s thigh. Adam tosses the control to the coffee table and stretches. The beer and the couple of times they’ve traded handjobs in the past combine to make Adam relax into something like recklessness.
Most of the time Danny talks a good talk, but he would never have the stones to admit he likes cock too.
......
7) untitled bigbang piece. SGA, John/Rodney, futurefic. I almost left this one off the list, but didn't. I've written the very opening but pretty much hate how I've written it. I've also written the skeleton of a fairly pivotal scene set two-thirds through the piece. This is the paragraph from the short opening scene that I hate the least.
The city hums at the base of his skull, warm and concerned. John takes a deep breath. There are voices pelting down the hall, and Teyla is still repeating his name. He tightens his grip on the baretta again, a reflex, then breaks into a cold sweat because jesus fuck, who else did he hurt.