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misscamLines in Euclidian Space, part two. [CGR, CWR, GSR]
Warrick Brown knows a poker face when he sees one and Catherine Willows doesn't have one. She thinks she has, he can tell, but she what she has is confidence. It's a different thing, even if it can still disguise the cards on her hand sometimes. Grissom doesn't have one either - he has masks, all of them disguises but all of them possible to remove. Nick, oh Nick can forget it. Too much heart in his eyes. Brass doesn't cut it either - enjoys being a dealer too much.
It's Robbins who got it. Grandfatherly, smiling Albert Robbins who sees more than he says. That's how to play poker. (...)
Fucking Catherine - oh yeah, they're fucking. This isn't making love. He's got her faced against a wall, her fingers clutching at wallpapered leaves as his hands are already up her skirt; he can feel naked thigh against his fingers and his teeth scratch her collarbone and the sweat of his chest stick to the skin of her back glistening and he tries to remember if he managed to yank his shirt off before or after they got in the door and hopes it wasn't in the cab already and oh yeah, this is fucking.
Making love can wait until he's certain he's ready to get fucked over by it again, he decides.
Rose's Claim, (very late) Anywhere but Cardiff ficathon entry. [Ten/Rose]
We'd like you to get to know to Rose Tyler.
Twenty years before this, Pete and Jackie Tyler had a girl. They did love each other, did love her, but like in every tale but fairytales, that wasn't enough to make it perfect. It never is.
Pete died. Jackie raised little Rose on fairytales and guts in a world short of the first and in need of the second. Little Rose became young Rose, young Rose became heartbroken Rose, became bored Rose, became working Rose, became Mickey's Rose.
Became the Doctor's Rose.
We could ask you to be get to know the Doctor, but it would take you a lifetime. He's had already had several and more still waits. A passing aquintance, then. This is the Doctor, last of the Time Lords, survivor, fighter, coward, rebel, ghost, legend, lover, nightmare, savior, Doctor.
He would be pleased to meet you too.
Rose met the Doctor and life changed. It often does around him (sometimes it even changes to death), but in her case even more so. Come with, he invited, grinning madness in a leather jacket. Come with.
That was definitely a sort of start.
An Adventure in Norway, the post-Doomsday fic. [Doctor/Rose, Others]
Time teaches a Time Lord many things. The inevitability of death and the desire cheat it any way. The strength of life in a universe that fights it every step of the way. The fire of stars. The darkness of dead stars. The cold of space. The space of space. The grand scheme. The power of one little decision to change everything.
One little decision.
"The Doctor didn't come," Romana says and he he watches the wind play with her hair almost absentmindedly. Tomorrow, there will be a gale. He'll have to remember to announce it. "The Daleks came. You... No. My Doctor didn't come."
"He didn't kill you," the Doctor says. One little decision. Everything changes.
"We were losing," she says. She looks at him, and he wonders if she really does believe what he's told her. "I had to do something. I used the time vortex against them."
"And now it's closed to you," he sums up. No time vortex in this universe. That's what killed his TARDIS on the first trip here. That's what would kill it again.
"Some among us say it's something in us that have changed. Some say it is the time vortex that changed. We are no longer Time Lords. We are dead. We just weren't killed."
There's also the possibility of Five Times Rose Knew and One Time She Suspected [Doctor/Rose] and Shagging and Time Lords: Biological Observations by Doctor Martha Jones [Martha/Doctor] as well as possibly another post-Living Doll exploration of recovering from trauma, but we shall see.
Now, for the meme I stole from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lizbee.
What is my friends list writing at the moment?
Post an excerpt, anything from a sentence to something more substantial, from your current WiP into my comments.
Warrick Brown knows a poker face when he sees one and Catherine Willows doesn't have one. She thinks she has, he can tell, but she what she has is confidence. It's a different thing, even if it can still disguise the cards on her hand sometimes. Grissom doesn't have one either - he has masks, all of them disguises but all of them possible to remove. Nick, oh Nick can forget it. Too much heart in his eyes. Brass doesn't cut it either - enjoys being a dealer too much.
It's Robbins who got it. Grandfatherly, smiling Albert Robbins who sees more than he says. That's how to play poker. (...)
Fucking Catherine - oh yeah, they're fucking. This isn't making love. He's got her faced against a wall, her fingers clutching at wallpapered leaves as his hands are already up her skirt; he can feel naked thigh against his fingers and his teeth scratch her collarbone and the sweat of his chest stick to the skin of her back glistening and he tries to remember if he managed to yank his shirt off before or after they got in the door and hopes it wasn't in the cab already and oh yeah, this is fucking.
Making love can wait until he's certain he's ready to get fucked over by it again, he decides.
Rose's Claim, (very late) Anywhere but Cardiff ficathon entry. [Ten/Rose]
We'd like you to get to know to Rose Tyler.
Twenty years before this, Pete and Jackie Tyler had a girl. They did love each other, did love her, but like in every tale but fairytales, that wasn't enough to make it perfect. It never is.
Pete died. Jackie raised little Rose on fairytales and guts in a world short of the first and in need of the second. Little Rose became young Rose, young Rose became heartbroken Rose, became bored Rose, became working Rose, became Mickey's Rose.
Became the Doctor's Rose.
We could ask you to be get to know the Doctor, but it would take you a lifetime. He's had already had several and more still waits. A passing aquintance, then. This is the Doctor, last of the Time Lords, survivor, fighter, coward, rebel, ghost, legend, lover, nightmare, savior, Doctor.
He would be pleased to meet you too.
Rose met the Doctor and life changed. It often does around him (sometimes it even changes to death), but in her case even more so. Come with, he invited, grinning madness in a leather jacket. Come with.
That was definitely a sort of start.
An Adventure in Norway, the post-Doomsday fic. [Doctor/Rose, Others]
Time teaches a Time Lord many things. The inevitability of death and the desire cheat it any way. The strength of life in a universe that fights it every step of the way. The fire of stars. The darkness of dead stars. The cold of space. The space of space. The grand scheme. The power of one little decision to change everything.
One little decision.
"The Doctor didn't come," Romana says and he he watches the wind play with her hair almost absentmindedly. Tomorrow, there will be a gale. He'll have to remember to announce it. "The Daleks came. You... No. My Doctor didn't come."
"He didn't kill you," the Doctor says. One little decision. Everything changes.
"We were losing," she says. She looks at him, and he wonders if she really does believe what he's told her. "I had to do something. I used the time vortex against them."
"And now it's closed to you," he sums up. No time vortex in this universe. That's what killed his TARDIS on the first trip here. That's what would kill it again.
"Some among us say it's something in us that have changed. Some say it is the time vortex that changed. We are no longer Time Lords. We are dead. We just weren't killed."
There's also the possibility of Five Times Rose Knew and One Time She Suspected [Doctor/Rose] and Shagging and Time Lords: Biological Observations by Doctor Martha Jones [Martha/Doctor] as well as possibly another post-Living Doll exploration of recovering from trauma, but we shall see.
Now, for the meme I stole from
lizbee.What is my friends list writing at the moment?
Post an excerpt, anything from a sentence to something more substantial, from your current WiP into my comments.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 03:30 am (UTC)And I'm about 5-8 pages away from polishing it off.
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Date: 2007-09-15 03:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 03:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-16 02:55 am (UTC)heh it would be posted but I had to head down south today, a mate of mine is leaving the area and I wanted to say bye before she goes. I will forth with post haste and all that and get it done ASAP! <3 me
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Date: 2007-09-16 06:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-16 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 03:46 am (UTC)The Weight of Water
They don’t cuddle.
She is stretched out on the loose sheets in front of the fire, oblivious or unconcerned with her naked skin. She’s watching the fire dance and pop, not flinching when the occasional cinder floats free of the hearth.
He is stretched out next to her, propped against the dusty sofa, his toes millimeters from her hip. He knows that if he wiggled his foot, they’d brush against her, but who they are hasn’t changed.
She’s never liked him touching her, even when she was the one holding on.
“This doesn’t change anything.”
She starts, surprised by his voice. Glances over her shoulder and idly curves up one of her calves. It’s a pose that would sell no end of skin magazines, he thinks. The backlit curve of her strong chin, contrasting with the rounded, bare curves of her shoulders, back, and ass.
Once upon a time, he dreamed of her like this. Not this, exactly, but a moment like this. Suddenly, he feels very, very old.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 03:47 am (UTC)Though Zoe knew he was decidedly not drunk, Sergeant Benton fumbled with her clothing like he had had too much to drink. It was endearingly sweet, in a way; she knew he was older than her, but he acted like he had almost no experience.
Such endearment only went so far, though—Zoe was burning inside and growing more and more impatient. “Here, let me help,” she insisted, tugging his belt loose and yanking his trousers down around his hips.
“M-Miss!” Benton gasped, clutching the closet shelf over her head.
Zoe began stroking the semi-hard length through the Sergeant’s boxers. “I think you can call me Zoe now,” she pointed out.
“We really can’t do this in here,” he protested weakly, though he did not pull away from her hands.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 04:04 am (UTC)"I'm getting a job."
His jaw worked convulsively as he tried to wrap his allegedly superior mind around the word. Finally he spat it out, like a child who's been given a peppermint drop rather than the butterscotch.
"A job? Why would you go and do that for?"
*sigh*
Is everyone bored with 1969 fic?
no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 04:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 04:32 am (UTC)Ok...excerpt from something I'm working on. Remember that Rose Tyler Ficathon from a year ago? Yeah, I'm still working on mine. So your Anywhere but Cardiff one is far from late compared to mine; believe me.
Rose looked down at her hands, turning pruny in the water. “There was such a cost.”
“There always is.” The look on his face was haunting and unnerving.
Rose took a deep breath and sank below the surface of the water, her body sliding across the smooth porcelain surface of the tub. Above her, she heard him shout in alarm, and she slid back above the surface, wiping water from her face. Her hair plastered itself to her face and she imagined she looked something akin to a drowned Pomeranian. Opening her eyes, she fixed him with her stare. “This time, Doctor, you’re not the only one to remember the price that was paid.”
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Date: 2007-09-15 04:51 am (UTC)"It's music and light and discord. Howling howling howling, pain and joy and transmutation. Infinity times ten, plus one minus one and it's all coming here."
Mal jumped back as she barrelled between them, cut off mid-rant by tangled hair and muttering. Without taking his eyes away from Inara, he called, "Doc, you best put a collar on her before I toss her out an airlock."
Simon sighed. "Oh, for -- she's not hurting anything."
"Now." It wasn't a request.
Oblivious to the bickering, River zoomed along her self-defined path. Circles tightened, grew corners to become ever-shrinking squares. As her circuit drew by, Simon reached half-heartedly for her; she shrugged away from his grip and kept pacing. "Vworp vworp, big brother. You can't hear it when you don't know how to listen."
no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 05:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 05:13 am (UTC)“I’m sure I can.”
“What?” Jaila asked, unsure if she’d untangled the grammar correctly.
“I can get them home. But I didn’t want him to know that.”
“But why not?” Jaila cried plaintively.
The Doctor turned his gaze on her, and she almost flinched away. For a moment, he looked very old and very sad.
“I’m a suspicious old man, Jaila.” He said. “I had to be sure. This time.” He added quietly.
(From my almost finished fic, with my original Companion, Jaila. I finally got past my writer's block on this one, at the cost of several hours of sleep. Tré exciting.)
no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 08:28 am (UTC)His second thought was that this wasn't where he was meant to be.
"Excuse me, but could you tell me what planet this is?"
A tall, paunchy man was passing him, followed by a trio of Ood. The man gave him a disbelieving stare, and without even slowing down, spat, "Aracq" before walking quickly on, glancing back just once to make sure the madman wasn't following.
Aracq. Right, Aracq. Not originally a human colony, but these humans, they liked to move in and make it their own. Judging by the ships flying overhead, he'd landed right in the middle of the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire, which meant this was an old, old colony now. Far away from Earth, too. Aracq. Cheap glass ornament of the Human Empire. Spacedock overhead, planet-side repair facilities, busy markets and just about every type of crime imaginable taking place under the suns. And he had a good imagination, too.
But none of this explained why he was here, when he'd given the TARDIS very specific co-ordinates for a completely different planet. She certainly thought she'd landed on a different planet. She'd always had a mind of her own; he just hoped she wasn't getting senile.
At least, he consoled himself, there was no need to pretend this was an intentional detour. No human women exchanging amused glances behind his back, making jokes at his expense and completely failing to believe any little fibs about a sudden urge to see a double sunset. And he enjoyed his own company anyway, he was perfectly fine on his own.
A passing woman gave him an odd look, and he realised he'd said that last bit out loud.
"And I'm not going crazy, either," he added.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 01:48 pm (UTC)"Who are you? Where is he?"
"Where's who?" He put a hand on her shoulder. "Just calm down there, relax. You've had a nasty shock. Do you remember how you got here?"
Rose shook her head, trembling a little. "Last thing I knew, there was this sound. He said it was a sort of alarm. And something exploded, and I woke up here. Actually, I thought I heard the alarm again, just as I woke up. Like a bell, a deep rumbling sort of bell."
The man furrowed his brow, confused. Then, his blue eyes snapped wide open. "It couldn't be," he murmured. Louder, he said to Rose, "What did he call it, this alarm?"
"I can't really remember. Something to do with churches, I think."
no subject
Date: 2007-09-15 08:18 pm (UTC)From a long-stalled PWP appropriately called "Layover."
no subject
Date: 2007-09-16 12:05 am (UTC)MORE MORE MORE!
I'd never pictured Warrick as an "up against the wall kind of guy" but not that I've seen it I can't really picture anything else. Nice work!
no subject
Date: 2007-09-16 02:06 am (UTC)"Can you pass me that... thing over there?"
She looked at the litter of parts scattered across my floor. "What... thing?"
"The roll of thinly pressed sheets of the soft metal atomic symbol Al and number 13."
Martha blinked, her mind suddenly blank. "In English, please?"
The Doctor poked his head up through the hole, looking like a ruffled, brown gopher. "That was English, wasn’t it?"
"In plain English, please?" Martha specified with a slight roll of her eyes.
"Oh, um... aluminium foil."
no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 03:14 am (UTC)Rose's Claim is just so intriguing. I really love the characterization of Jackie
"Jackie raised little Rose on fairytales and guts in a world short of the first and in need of the second."
I sometimes think Jackie gets underrated or used as too much comic relief (which she is to a degree) but she loves her daughter, and is protective to the end.
Adventure in Norway, reunion, never bad. Looks like a very new take though, I'm mindcrunching how you're going to use Romana. Guess I'll have to sit and wait on that one.
Finally, as much as I adore CSI, I've tended to avoid fanfic on it, but I may be having second thoughts!
no subject
Date: 2007-09-17 07:49 am (UTC)