I yield to your blandishments. Although be aware that the last fic I wrote took me six months...
Also, since I have no faith in my ability to write in character team, you're getting smuggler perspective fic instead- because I know so much more about the shady world of international crime :)
Have the first 250 words. More may take a while...
Jimmy should never have stolen that car. Even though it was shiny. If he hadn’t been distracted by the gleaming red paintwork, he might have noticed that it belonged to Jack Lord. And then he wouldn’t owe the crime boss a significant favour. And then he wouldn’t be stuck sitting in a pick up truck on a deserted parking lot in the middle of the night with a psychotic Brit.
On the other hand, collecting fake money falling from the sky was a lot more pleasant than, say, getting both your kneecaps smashed. So really, it was nice of Jack to have given him the option. Although if his companion didn’t shut up soon, the kneecaps would seem like a realistic alternative.
“Anyway, then Rose left him, and he was sad for a while, but then he met Martha, who was, y’know, a little annoying but got better, and then she left, so he took up with Donna, who was great, but now he’s with Amy, who’s fun and ginger...”
“Wait, wait” said Jimmy “this guy travels round in a time machine with a series of hot chicks. And this is not porn? Seriously, this Rose girl...”.
The click of the safety on a nine mil was nearly enough to shut him up. What did the rest was the cold press of the barrel to his forehead.
“You don’t insult Rose in front of me. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes. Yes, absolutely. Totally clear” said Jimmy “Jesus, Dave, I’m sorry I insulted your true love or whatever. Could you move the gun please?”
This, okay? This is already awesome because you got a fantastic character voice going on here, and ha, I know enough to recognize Doctor Who. Seriously, this is promising worlds of fun! And well-done outsider perspective is fantastic.
So. *nudges*
I don't want to pester you because that can get annoying, but more would be wonderful. *nudges*
Thank you kindly., have a little teeny bit more. The problem is that after this bit I will actually have to write High!5-0, which really could take a while...
“You don’t insult Rose in front of me. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes. Yes, absolutely. Totally clear” said Jimmy “Jesus, Dave, I’m sorry I insulted your true love or whatever. Could you move the gun please?”
Dave stared at him for another few seconds before taking the gun away, like he hadn’t already got the point. No insulting the fantasy girlfriend. Understood loud and clear, won’t be doing that again. And likewise won’t be insulting Katy Perry, Freddie Mercury, or Marmite. Especially Marmite. Which really left only one safe topic for discussion.
“So can we go over the plan again? If you don’t mind.”
“The plan is the same as the last time you asked. It’s really very simple” said Dave “At 1am we light the flares to show the plane where to drop the crate. The crate contains high quality counterfeit dollars. If you steal any, I will shoot you. If you look like you’re thinking of stealing any, I will shoot you. And please note that I haven’t specified where I will shoot you so feel free to use your imagination on that one. Assuming I haven’t shot you, we put the crate on the truck, we drive to the warehouse. I get paid, you get to keep your kneecaps and then we all go home.”
“That’s great Dave. Really.”
Possibly Jimmy should have been paying more attention to the speech. But he’d heard it a few times now and the absolute paralysing terror he’d felt at the first rendition had settled into a sort of plateau of petrified boredom. Besides, there were other things happening, things that in the grand scheme of tonight’s plan were probably more important.
“The thing is Dave, if we’re supposed to light the flares at 1am, why can I hear a plane now? And if we’re lighting flares, who’s lit the bonfire?”
Have I mentioned how much I love well-done outsider point of views? Seriously, they're awesome, and this is one of those cases. So, okay, no 5-0 yet, but I already like Jimmy a lot - he has this quirky humor that makes me look forward to his take on the 5-0 so much, so much. Can't wait for more, seriously.
Also, since I have no faith in my ability to write in character team, you're getting smuggler perspective fic instead- because I know so much more about the shady world of international crime :)
Have the first 250 words. More may take a while...
Jimmy should never have stolen that car. Even though it was shiny. If he hadn’t been distracted by the gleaming red paintwork, he might have noticed that it belonged to Jack Lord. And then he wouldn’t owe the crime boss a significant favour. And then he wouldn’t be stuck sitting in a pick up truck on a deserted parking lot in the middle of the night with a psychotic Brit.
On the other hand, collecting fake money falling from the sky was a lot more pleasant than, say, getting both your kneecaps smashed. So really, it was nice of Jack to have given him the option.
Although if his companion didn’t shut up soon, the kneecaps would seem like a realistic alternative.
“Anyway, then Rose left him, and he was sad for a while, but then he met Martha, who was, y’know, a little annoying but got better, and then she left, so he took up with Donna, who was great, but now he’s with Amy, who’s fun and ginger...”
“Wait, wait” said Jimmy “this guy travels round in a time machine with a series of hot chicks. And this is not porn? Seriously, this Rose girl...”.
The click of the safety on a nine mil was nearly enough to shut him up. What did the rest was the cold press of the barrel to his forehead.
“You don’t insult Rose in front of me. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes. Yes, absolutely. Totally clear” said Jimmy “Jesus, Dave, I’m sorry I insulted your true love or whatever. Could you move the gun please?”
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So. *nudges*
I don't want to pester you because that can get annoying, but more would be wonderful. *nudges*
*dimples*
Reply
“You don’t insult Rose in front of me. Are we clear on this?”
“Yes. Yes, absolutely. Totally clear” said Jimmy “Jesus, Dave, I’m sorry I insulted your true love or whatever. Could you move the gun please?”
Dave stared at him for another few seconds before taking the gun away, like he hadn’t already got the point. No insulting the fantasy girlfriend. Understood loud and clear, won’t be doing that again. And likewise won’t be insulting Katy Perry, Freddie Mercury, or Marmite. Especially Marmite. Which really left only one safe topic for discussion.
“So can we go over the plan again? If you don’t mind.”
“The plan is the same as the last time you asked. It’s really very simple” said Dave “At 1am we light the flares to show the plane where to drop the crate. The crate contains high quality counterfeit dollars. If you steal any, I will shoot you. If you look like you’re thinking of stealing any, I will shoot you. And please note that I haven’t specified where I will shoot you so feel free to use your imagination on that one. Assuming I haven’t shot you, we put the crate on the truck, we drive to the warehouse. I get paid, you get to keep your kneecaps and then we all go home.”
“That’s great Dave. Really.”
Possibly Jimmy should have been paying more attention to the speech. But he’d heard it a few times now and the absolute paralysing terror he’d felt at the first rendition had settled into a sort of plateau of petrified boredom. Besides, there were other things happening, things that in the grand scheme of tonight’s plan were probably more important.
“The thing is Dave, if we’re supposed to light the flares at 1am, why can I hear a plane now? And if we’re lighting flares, who’s lit the bonfire?”
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