It's the last Friday...
Friday, 20 December 2019 03:30 pm...before I stop work for a whole... *counts*... twelve days. Twelve days! An advent of holiday. *g* Before then I have much more than a day's work ahead of me, though, so in order to try and chivvy myself along, I am going to try and write at the same time (otherwise there's a whole staring-blankly-at-random-depressing-news-and/or-social-media thing that I do to try and convince my brain it's not melting). This is probably impossible, but if I'm going to still be working at 4am again, then I ought to get something of value from it (not counting the money that I just hand over immediately to other people in order to be, for example, cold in this house). I'm also going to write less complicated sentences. Promise.
So... it'll probably be a few sentences at a time, and if you really fancy helping, do drop in with a comment about where I'm up to, and what the next sentence might roughly be... *g* I will incorporate it in some way that fits what's going on in my wee Pros-head.
Okay. Clear as mud? Let's begin (oh, and btw? That pic is genuinely from December 1981 *g*)...
The Twentieth of December
by Slantedlight
"Look at that." Doyle gestured out the window with his cup of coffee. His back was to the room, but Bodie knew he had a face like thunder. "And you know - you know - Cowley's going to have us right out in it, any minute now."
"Mmmn." Bodie was busy looking, at the way Doyle's holster stretched across his back, supple tan leather against the denim blue of his shirt, disappearing over his shoulder and under his arms.
"Coldest bloody December for years, and we're stuck on duty!"
"Stuck," Bodie echoed obediently. If he unbuttoned Doyle's shirt when he was still wearing his holster...
Doyle turned abruptly. "Bodie - gimme the binoculars. A car's just pulled up outside Phelan's door! I'm sure I've seen it before..."
"Eh?"
"Bo-die!" Doyle leaned towards him, reached out, and pulled the binoculars out of his unresisting hand. "Wake up Bodie! It's like living with a zombie, being on obbo with you. You finally fallen in love or something?" He turned back to the window as he was speaking, so he didn't see Bodie's startled look.
Probably wouldn't have made any difference, Bodie thought sourly, not to Mr Bloody Oblivious. He got up from his armchair and moved to stand behind Doyle at the window, crowding close behind him, just to be perverse.
So... it'll probably be a few sentences at a time, and if you really fancy helping, do drop in with a comment about where I'm up to, and what the next sentence might roughly be... *g* I will incorporate it in some way that fits what's going on in my wee Pros-head.
Okay. Clear as mud? Let's begin (oh, and btw? That pic is genuinely from December 1981 *g*)...
The Twentieth of Decemberby Slantedlight
"Look at that." Doyle gestured out the window with his cup of coffee. His back was to the room, but Bodie knew he had a face like thunder. "And you know - you know - Cowley's going to have us right out in it, any minute now."
"Mmmn." Bodie was busy looking, at the way Doyle's holster stretched across his back, supple tan leather against the denim blue of his shirt, disappearing over his shoulder and under his arms.
"Coldest bloody December for years, and we're stuck on duty!"
"Stuck," Bodie echoed obediently. If he unbuttoned Doyle's shirt when he was still wearing his holster...
Doyle turned abruptly. "Bodie - gimme the binoculars. A car's just pulled up outside Phelan's door! I'm sure I've seen it before..."
"Eh?"
"Bo-die!" Doyle leaned towards him, reached out, and pulled the binoculars out of his unresisting hand. "Wake up Bodie! It's like living with a zombie, being on obbo with you. You finally fallen in love or something?" He turned back to the window as he was speaking, so he didn't see Bodie's startled look.
Probably wouldn't have made any difference, Bodie thought sourly, not to Mr Bloody Oblivious. He got up from his armchair and moved to stand behind Doyle at the window, crowding close behind him, just to be perverse.
