Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations. No more than one sentence!
There are fifty (gulp) and tere are actually more than this *wry grin* But quite a few (especially my G/D ones) are a mere sentence or two about the story in general, not a started story.
There are a mixture of fandoms, my five main ones and one of my teeny ones.
I am not entirely certain that I should be putting this down in writing, but I am.
Even before he reached the squad room he could hear the sound of raised voices – correction a raised voice.
Something was wrong, and Ray knew it.
"Something even worse than killing him."
Napoleon Solo sat in the office he shared with his partner, doing some paperwork and wondering where his said partner was.
"So, Mr. Solo, the choice is yours: that pretty little partner of yours, or the girl?"
"Do you think you are that good so that a person only has to be fucked by you one time and they immediately think it’s love?"
"Do you require a demonstration, sir?"
They ate, or rather Napoleon ate, Illya picked, moved his food around in his bowl, and drank steadily.
He shook his head, confusion and pain warring with the disgust.
And it wasn’t an ordinary, quiet, partners argument; this was serious.
"So, tell me, what kind of lovers are we meant to be?"
Napoleon reached down and yanked the swaying Illya to his feet and again punched him in the face, holding onto Illya’s now bloodied white shirt with one hand so that he could hit him again and again.
This time he managed an entire sentence, even if his voice was practically inaudible.
He tries to push away the little voice that says 'why not me'?
But foolish or not, he does keep it.
What he, Timothy McGee, felt or didn't feel wasn't real, couldn't be real.
One was the daughter of an Admiral; the other what was known as 'trailer trash'; one of them was guilty of murder.
He hadn't trusted her, not from the moment he had met her.
As he drove into the small town, he wondered how long it would be before the whole town knew that Leroy Gibbs was back again and had brought his lover with him; his male lover.
"Don’t worry, Palmer, I won’t tell him you gave me his diary."
Like Jethro himself, Ducky didn't not appear to be reading, instead he seemed to be staring into space, as he did all too often these days.
For several minutes he just stood there, the notebook, Ducky's notebook in his hand, looking down at what his oldest friend had written.
His Ducky in full doctor mode was a sight to behold, and his Ducky in doctor and lover mode was even more powerful.
It wasn't DiNozzo's fault, it wasn't anyone's fault but his own that the lead had been false, a trap, designed with one thing in mind: to kill Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
"She killed our baby."
The sapphire blue eyes had changed and become a piercing grey; the color of steel, and steel is what they appeared to be.
For the first time in his life he knew there was no way out.
Mind still on the most recent lecture, he rounded the corner and ran straight into a red-headed woman.
Even if they were considerably more difficult to tie, especially when your lover, who wears them every day, is standing offering 'helpful' suggestions.
"Gibbs died the day he ended his relationship with Ducky."
He clamped his mouth shut, before he over-explained, especially as the nurse didn't seem the least bit interested - unlike DiNozzo.
Gibbs was too stunned by the move to do anything other than return the kiss for a moment or two.
He hoped they’d never meet because he knew what he would have done had done had someone used Illya like he had used Ducky.
"Some people might think that having their own doctor in the family is a good thing, but sometimes it’s a pain in the ass."
"Because Ray never misses," Bodie said quietly.
George Cowley thought that he had seen every atrocity that man could do to man; every example of deviant behaviour; had thought that nothing could surprise him.
"Go undercover in an amateur dramatics group," repeated Cowley, making it quite clear that he did not expect to have to repeat himself.
Five minutes later he returned, walked across to where Ray was still sprawled on the sofa and tugged the book from his hands.
Now standing in the hospital, Doyle longed to ring Bodie, longed to ask him to make the decision for him; longed to ask Bodie to come to the hospital at the very least – but this was one decision his partner couldn't help him with.
"Christ, it’s become a pretty poor state of affairs if a bloke can’t touch another bloke without being accused of sleeping with him."
When he glanced up it was to see his lover making his careful way towards him, one hand on the rail that ran all the way along the corridor, the other held out slightly from his side.
If he’d hoped to get a response from his boss by the over use of the term ‘bloody’, he was sadly mistaken.
Bodie stood in the cemetery, hidden by the darkness of the trees, watching the burial that was being carried out several feet away from him.
He had never intended it to happen, this was not what he had expected, or meant, or looked for.
Somehow when it one of your own 'gone bad', it was far worse than when it was an outsider.
Sapphire & Steel
Something had happened, something had gone wrong; somehow time had broken though and was threatening humanity.
He heard inside his head and in his ears, just as he saw what Silver and the woman whose mind he now inhabited had shared.
Neil walked through the airport with his briefcase in his hand.