Drabble: Nice Work (Moonlight/Heroes; Josef/Adam)
I'm working on the drabble requests but they are coming along slowly - too many assessments, too many tempting ideas (thanks guys!). I'll try to get through as many of those as possible in the next couple of weeks. In the meantime, transtempts has made me want to write my Moonlight/Heroes OTP.
Josef and Adam Monroe, pre-series. G. They're neither of them after the American Dream.
Man was born in time. He lives and dies in time.
- William S. Burroughs, Ghost of Chance
Nice Work (If You Can Get It)
It comes up eventually, it always does. After the first eager exchange of stories and other simple pleasures, when memories have been prised open, revisited like so many faded letters fused together from long years apart, whether we are in London or L.A., sooner or later you'll ask me:
"What's next, Adam? Do you even know?"
I never do. That's the honest truth, though the saying of it never gets any easier. You'll sigh gently, outlining the frame of my cheek with your palm, those hands with which you rebuild the world according to your designs. The power to beckon and to create.
"No plans, no responsibilities. Nothing to fear. I envy you sometimes."
I'll smile at you, say: "But only sometimes."
Unwilling to be pinned down, I was a wastrel before this life, even if you think the centuries have given me focus.
"Stay?"
I always try.
11 May 2008
Josef and Adam Monroe, pre-series. G. They're neither of them after the American Dream.
Man was born in time. He lives and dies in time.
- William S. Burroughs, Ghost of Chance
Nice Work (If You Can Get It)
It comes up eventually, it always does. After the first eager exchange of stories and other simple pleasures, when memories have been prised open, revisited like so many faded letters fused together from long years apart, whether we are in London or L.A., sooner or later you'll ask me:
"What's next, Adam? Do you even know?"
I never do. That's the honest truth, though the saying of it never gets any easier. You'll sigh gently, outlining the frame of my cheek with your palm, those hands with which you rebuild the world according to your designs. The power to beckon and to create.
"No plans, no responsibilities. Nothing to fear. I envy you sometimes."
I'll smile at you, say: "But only sometimes."
Unwilling to be pinned down, I was a wastrel before this life, even if you think the centuries have given me focus.
"Stay?"
I always try.
11 May 2008