oh, baby, I'm going to the special hell (Angel/Booth for you)carlyinromeMay 24 2007, 06:17:46 UTC
Angel had spent his life working out new ways to be larger than it. This is the kind of thing that gets you arrested fairly often.
He had never had the pleasure, however, of being arrested by the FBI. The Tsarist Secret Police once, but never the FBI. It was almost exciting, like a milestone he could check off his life’s list or something.
Angel’s feelings toward law enforcement personnel were not of contempt, but more a kind of pitying humor. In almost every instance, real life police were more like Keystone Cops than capable, steel-jawed noir heroes.
Special Agent Seeley Booth did not raise his estimations much. Growling and parading like a show cock in a mid-priced suit.
Angel liked the belt buckle, though.
“When did you meet the girl?” Booth asked. Angel continued smiling and pulled experimentally at his handcuffs.
“You think this is funny? We caught you red-handed - literally - at the scene of a homicide. You’re gonna do a lot of time. I’m trying to help you out, here. But I need something from you
( ... )
Re: oh, baby, I'm going to the special hell (Angel/Booth for you)kita0610May 24 2007, 06:24:16 UTC
Bzhuhmphrbzzt?
GAH. GAH.
This is so fucking cool. I LOVE it that you don't bother mentioning the obvious stuff at all, and just go straight for the GAH. And Angel's internal monologue is so fecking funny and spot on.
Sharing a school was horrible enough. Sharing their parents was truly disgusting.
Sharing a sleeping space was the ninth circle of hell. Being poked by pitchforks and stuff.
“If you snore, I’ll kill you.”
Sam rolled her eyes, but did not actually look up at Brooke from her novel.
“I’m serious,” Brooke added, displeased that Sam had failed to react.
“And risk getting blood on your cheerleading outfit?” Sam said. She still didn’t look up.
Brooke huffed, and tried to think up something smart to say back. When she couldn’t manage anything, she jumped off her bed and across the room; she grabbed Sam’s book from her hands and threw it to the ground.
“Hey!” Brooke said. “You . . . shut up!”
Sam rose from the bed and faced fair Brookie off. “Nice retort, B. Very clever.”
“Oh my God, I hate you, you mousy, flat-chested, self-righteous . . . brat
( ... )
Darla was not a romantic. Darla was practical, skilled, and cold, a diamond-precise instrument. The only time she was ever the least bit sentimental about anything concerned Angelus; she’d felt unnatural fever the first time she’d seen him, and he continued to keep up with her, to surprise her, in ways that she’d never anticipated.
His decision to turn that lunatic seer, however, left her feeling far from romantic. Darla wished the idiot girl was a kitten, so she could tie the vile, mewling thing up in a pillowslip and toss it into a river. But no; the taking of a life-one of their lives, not a human’s-was a serious matter, and besides, the girl amused Angelus. He was disturbingly proud of his project, and Darla was, after the unsettling completion of his masterpiece, unsure about how he would react if Drusilla suddenly turned up missing. He’d grown more than Darla had realized, and, while under normal circumstances he kept his place, if she openly struck against him, she might not prevail. Her boy
( ... )
Connor and FaithcarlyinromeMay 25 2007, 05:21:28 UTC
Faith’s memories hadn’t been tampered with. Even if she had, through some twist of fate, ended up walking through the doors of Wolfram and Hart, a Slayer carries a lot of magic, magic too much for the Senior Partners to tamper with
( ... )
Comments 19
*hug*
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Angel had spent his life working out new ways to be larger than it. This is the kind of thing that gets you arrested fairly often.
He had never had the pleasure, however, of being arrested by the FBI. The Tsarist Secret Police once, but never the FBI. It was almost exciting, like a milestone he could check off his life’s list or something.
Angel’s feelings toward law enforcement personnel were not of contempt, but more a kind of pitying humor. In almost every instance, real life police were more like Keystone Cops than capable, steel-jawed noir heroes.
Special Agent Seeley Booth did not raise his estimations much. Growling and parading like a show cock in a mid-priced suit.
Angel liked the belt buckle, though.
“When did you meet the girl?” Booth asked. Angel continued smiling and pulled experimentally at his handcuffs.
“You think this is funny? We caught you red-handed - literally - at the scene of a homicide. You’re gonna do a lot of time. I’m trying to help you out, here. But I need something from you ( ... )
Reply
GAH. GAH.
This is so fucking cool. I LOVE it that you don't bother mentioning the obvious stuff at all, and just go straight for the GAH. And Angel's internal monologue is so fecking funny and spot on.
I <33 you baby.
Reply
Hee, thank you! I'm really glad you liked it, because -- you know -- you're you, and the queen of Angel!slash and stuff.
Thanks for distracting me. I really needed it.
<3
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Sharing a school was horrible enough. Sharing their parents was truly disgusting.
Sharing a sleeping space was the ninth circle of hell. Being poked by pitchforks and stuff.
“If you snore, I’ll kill you.”
Sam rolled her eyes, but did not actually look up at Brooke from her novel.
“I’m serious,” Brooke added, displeased that Sam had failed to react.
“And risk getting blood on your cheerleading outfit?” Sam said. She still didn’t look up.
Brooke huffed, and tried to think up something smart to say back. When she couldn’t manage anything, she jumped off her bed and across the room; she grabbed Sam’s book from her hands and threw it to the ground.
“Hey!” Brooke said. “You . . . shut up!”
Sam rose from the bed and faced fair Brookie off. “Nice retort, B. Very clever.”
“Oh my God, I hate you, you mousy, flat-chested, self-righteous . . . brat ( ... )
Reply
And... Darla/Drusilla?
Reply
As you wish, my dear.
Darla was not a romantic. Darla was practical, skilled, and cold, a diamond-precise instrument. The only time she was ever the least bit sentimental about anything concerned Angelus; she’d felt unnatural fever the first time she’d seen him, and he continued to keep up with her, to surprise her, in ways that she’d never anticipated.
His decision to turn that lunatic seer, however, left her feeling far from romantic. Darla wished the idiot girl was a kitten, so she could tie the vile, mewling thing up in a pillowslip and toss it into a river. But no; the taking of a life-one of their lives, not a human’s-was a serious matter, and besides, the girl amused Angelus. He was disturbingly proud of his project, and Darla was, after the unsettling completion of his masterpiece, unsure about how he would react if Drusilla suddenly turned up missing. He’d grown more than Darla had realized, and, while under normal circumstances he kept his place, if she openly struck against him, she might not prevail. Her boy ( ... )
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(The comment has been removed)
I trust it's a good ( ... )
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(The comment has been removed)
You're so very welcome! And I'm thrilled you liked it.
<3
(Also: Crazy love = awesome.)
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Faith’s memories hadn’t been tampered with. Even if she had, through some twist of fate, ended up walking through the doors of Wolfram and Hart, a Slayer carries a lot of magic, magic too much for the Senior Partners to tamper with ( ... )
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