thoughtcrimes/boa snippet
Mechanics of a Relationship
I owe smuffster a Thoughtcrimes/Boa vs. Python crossover. This isn't it. *grins*
Mechanics of a Relationship
On good days, Freya didn't tap into Emmett's thoughts anymore, because he gleefully projected everything she wanted to know, and then some. The second time she had seen Brendan, naked and flushed and hot wet silky firm throbbing throbbing between his lips, under his tongue, she had gotten the message and stayed away. Emmett was nothing if not sensual, and sometimes she picked it up from Brendan, the meticulous recalling of every single second caught up in a pleasure that was almost painful, mingled with a furious possessiveness that seemed strangely out of place within his analytical mind. She had taken to whistling the first few tunes of the Scooby-Doo theme song to get him off that particular track.
On good days, everything was right with the world.
The bad days always started the same. Emmett would read something or watch the News and throw off some comment about how the FBI had been the most incompetent bunch of people he'd ever had to work with. Brendan would get offended on behalf of government employees everywhere and answer, "I'm NSA, Emmett, not FBI." Emmett would be upset that his partner was deliberately misunderstanding him and snap, "same difference," and by then it was usually too late for anything because Brendan would spit out something spiteful about how at least he wasn't a crazy scientist wasting everyone's time and money in the pursuit of something that simply didn't exist. Emmett usually withdrew at that point, hurt and silent, and more than once Freya had found herself on a plane to Elkins, West Virginia - or at least to the closest airport you got - a few weeks later because Brendan's bad conscience was driving her insane. She'd talk to Emmett, convincing him that Brendan needed him more than Betty, and he'd hesitantly follow her back home, where she gritted her teeth against everyone pretending that nothing had happened at all.
Those were the days when she didn't know why she put up with them.
But then there were days like this one, days when Brendan had gotten hurt while doing his job and Emmett was sitting at his bedside, telling him he was glad that Brendan was alive, that Emmett forgave him for being an idiot, never caring who might be listening as long as Brendan was unconscious and didn't hear a word he said. And these were the days Freya felt like crying, because while Emmett was saying that "everything will be okay, you'll see", Brendan was lying awake with his eyes closed, his thoughts a litany of "love you" and "don't leave" and "sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry."
All in all, she preferred the good days.
~~~
There you go. Hope you liked it. :)
I owe smuffster a Thoughtcrimes/Boa vs. Python crossover. This isn't it. *grins*
Mechanics of a Relationship
On good days, Freya didn't tap into Emmett's thoughts anymore, because he gleefully projected everything she wanted to know, and then some. The second time she had seen Brendan, naked and flushed and hot wet silky firm throbbing throbbing between his lips, under his tongue, she had gotten the message and stayed away. Emmett was nothing if not sensual, and sometimes she picked it up from Brendan, the meticulous recalling of every single second caught up in a pleasure that was almost painful, mingled with a furious possessiveness that seemed strangely out of place within his analytical mind. She had taken to whistling the first few tunes of the Scooby-Doo theme song to get him off that particular track.
On good days, everything was right with the world.
The bad days always started the same. Emmett would read something or watch the News and throw off some comment about how the FBI had been the most incompetent bunch of people he'd ever had to work with. Brendan would get offended on behalf of government employees everywhere and answer, "I'm NSA, Emmett, not FBI." Emmett would be upset that his partner was deliberately misunderstanding him and snap, "same difference," and by then it was usually too late for anything because Brendan would spit out something spiteful about how at least he wasn't a crazy scientist wasting everyone's time and money in the pursuit of something that simply didn't exist. Emmett usually withdrew at that point, hurt and silent, and more than once Freya had found herself on a plane to Elkins, West Virginia - or at least to the closest airport you got - a few weeks later because Brendan's bad conscience was driving her insane. She'd talk to Emmett, convincing him that Brendan needed him more than Betty, and he'd hesitantly follow her back home, where she gritted her teeth against everyone pretending that nothing had happened at all.
Those were the days when she didn't know why she put up with them.
But then there were days like this one, days when Brendan had gotten hurt while doing his job and Emmett was sitting at his bedside, telling him he was glad that Brendan was alive, that Emmett forgave him for being an idiot, never caring who might be listening as long as Brendan was unconscious and didn't hear a word he said. And these were the days Freya felt like crying, because while Emmett was saying that "everything will be okay, you'll see", Brendan was lying awake with his eyes closed, his thoughts a litany of "love you" and "don't leave" and "sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry."
All in all, she preferred the good days.
~~~
There you go. Hope you liked it. :)