I have a whopping three fic finished, and one I'm currently working on.
Like A Fish: "Danny, what's this?" Nicholas Angel contemplated a stuffed... something.
Fancy Dress: In years previous, Halloween had been rather a discouraged holiday in Sandford, what with the potential for prank-related property damage and general unsightliness.
The Spot: It was not a story that he would ever tell anyone, because it was intensely unromantic and embarrassing at the same time that it was deeply personal and meaningful, but Danny Butterman knew the exact moment when he realized that Nicholas Angel loved him just as much as he loved Nick.
[Title Still Secret]: In the month and a half since their station house exploded, the Sandford Police Service had collectively managed to get themselves healed up and released from the hospital in Buford Abbey, hand investigation and cleanup of the NWA case over to a special task force based in Bristol (after a suitably arduous series of briefings and depositions, of course), take some mandated vacation time for counseling and emotional recovery, and begin to get settled into their temporary digs in the old vacant bookshop on the main street.
The pattern I see here is: Jeezus Christ am I wordy! Shut up already!
I blame Nick & Danny. They just keep talking. About stuff. That's why I'm still not finished with the new one; they can't just do things, they have to keep nattering on and being all charming and entertaining while they do it. Bastards.
no subject
I think that's your pattern. ;P
I have a whopping three fic finished, and one I'm currently working on.
Like A Fish: "Danny, what's this?" Nicholas Angel contemplated a stuffed... something.
Fancy Dress: In years previous, Halloween had been rather a discouraged holiday in Sandford, what with the potential for prank-related property damage and general unsightliness.
The Spot: It was not a story that he would ever tell anyone, because it was intensely unromantic and embarrassing at the same time that it was deeply personal and meaningful, but Danny Butterman knew the exact moment when he realized that Nicholas Angel loved him just as much as he loved Nick.
[Title Still Secret]:
In the month and a half since their station house exploded, the Sandford Police Service had collectively managed to get themselves healed up and released from the hospital in Buford Abbey, hand investigation and cleanup of the NWA case over to a special task force based in Bristol (after a suitably arduous series of briefings and depositions, of course), take some mandated vacation time for counseling and emotional recovery, and begin to get settled into their temporary digs in the old vacant bookshop on the main street.
The pattern I see here is: Jeezus Christ am I wordy! Shut up already!
I blame Nick & Danny. They just keep talking. About stuff. That's why I'm still not finished with the new one; they can't just do things, they have to keep nattering on and being all charming and entertaining while they do it. Bastards.