Fic: Three States Part V (Cowritten with slwatson, Due South, Turnbull/Vecchio, PG13)
Three States
Fandom: Due South
Characters: Turnbull/Vecchio (pre-slash)
Rating: PG-13
Complete in 23322 Words Total (All parts)
Summary: Ray takes a hit to the vest. The result? Three states, three days, and two men in the best sort of trouble.
Notes: Post-COTW stand-alone story; takes place in this fic-verse. Co-written with slwatson. Please allow me to assure you that all the good bits are hers.
Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V
-Epilogue-
Turnbull wiped a clear space in the fog of the mirror and planted hands either side of it, staring at himself.
Wide, tired blue eyes stared back.
At some point in the tub, looking up through the distortion of bad-quality water, the fact that he had given ground to his problem came painfully, wonderfully to fore. He hadn't seen the ceiling. Just the play of another man's smile across his memory. And green eyes.
He was going to have to name it some time. He blinked at himself and took a breath, determined to give it voice.
"I'm--" No. The sentence died with a sigh.
He stared until he had to wipe the mirror clear again.
"I-- I--" You. You.
Clenching his jaw at himself, he tipped his chin up in defiance. He could say the words. He could.
"I'm--" Blink. Blink. Sigh.
He shut his eyes.
"I'm going to bed."
Fandom: Due South
Characters: Turnbull/Vecchio (pre-slash)
Rating: PG-13
Complete in 23322 Words Total (All parts)
Summary: Ray takes a hit to the vest. The result? Three states, three days, and two men in the best sort of trouble.
Notes: Post-COTW stand-alone story; takes place in this fic-verse. Co-written with slwatson. Please allow me to assure you that all the good bits are hers.
Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V
-Epilogue-
Turnbull wiped a clear space in the fog of the mirror and planted hands either side of it, staring at himself.
Wide, tired blue eyes stared back.
At some point in the tub, looking up through the distortion of bad-quality water, the fact that he had given ground to his problem came painfully, wonderfully to fore. He hadn't seen the ceiling. Just the play of another man's smile across his memory. And green eyes.
He was going to have to name it some time. He blinked at himself and took a breath, determined to give it voice.
"I'm--" No. The sentence died with a sigh.
He stared until he had to wipe the mirror clear again.
"I-- I--" You. You.
Clenching his jaw at himself, he tipped his chin up in defiance. He could say the words. He could.
"I'm--" Blink. Blink. Sigh.
He shut his eyes.
"I'm going to bed."