Our Bruised Arms Hung Up For Monuments (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
blanketforts Day 4)
Jan. 5th, 2006 07:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosie_ruesTitle: Our Bruised Arms Hung Up For Monuments
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them.
Wordcount: 1556
Prompt: First cup of tea on a freezing morning
Cups of tea consumed in the writing of this fic: 5 (+ the one I'm drinking now)
Notes: Title from Richard III. You are not seeing this. If you think this is a fic you're imagining things. Yes, indeedy. Because I have willpower and I am not doingblanketforts. No, I'm not.
....
I'm also a tea-whore.
For the sake of my sanity let's call this an extract from an unwritten 31-part series. I like my sanity. It's shiny and glitters when the wind blows.
1 2 3 4
There was no tea in Sirius’ flat.
It was still dark and the striplight in the ceiling was buzzing like a sick billywig. Remus stared at the empty cupboard. Then, his hand shaking slightly, he ran his hand along the shelf, just in case Sirius had had a bad day and turned it invisible.
No tea. Not even some cheap supermarket blend. It wasn’t that he was expecting Sirius to have a proper selection. He wasn’t even hoping for Earl Grey or Lapsang Souchong or the awful weak Russian stuff his Aunt Amelia drank. But there was no tea at all.
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Tea wasn’t the only thing Sirius’ flat lacked. There were no clean sheets, no milk that wasn’t off, no bread, no forks (”Spoons do fine, Moony, mate.”), no exposed pieces of carpet, no non-sticky surfaces and, as he had just discovered, no hot water in the shower.
Fine.
There was a corner shop and he was sure they opened early. They certainly opened late – he had nipped in there for booze on the way to parties before. Grumpily, he shuffled his shoes on and went to search for his coat. He had no idea where Sirius kept his spare key and he didn’t care. The bastard would just have to be awake by the time he got back.
Luckily, the shop was open and the sleepy teenager behind the till gave him a friendly smile and a puzzled look when he put down the box of PG Tips and a paper. Remus managed to smile and say thank you. It was cold out and the streets were quiet, apart from the delivery vans trundling towards Berwick Market and up into Chinatown. A few homeless men were wedged into doorways but they were still asleep under their layers of cardboard. Remus looked at them and shuddered. There had been times in wizarding history when that would have been the only future open to a werewolf. Of course, these days he wasn’t likely to live that long.
It might be time to remind himself that he now possessed tea. The world wasn’t a wholly bad place. It would probably also be good to remember that Sirius was doing him a favour in letting him stay while the Floo was suspended.
Winter of bloody Discontent, his arse.
He rang the doorbell and waited for Sirius, who was probably only just awake, to open the door.
No response so he rang again.
Still nothing. His ankles were freezing. Had he forgotten to put socks on?
This time he leant on the bell until he heard Sirius swearing on the other side of the door. It cracked open and he stopped ringing.
“Who is it?” Sirius demanded suspiciously.
“Me.”
“No, it’s not. You’re asleep on my sofa.”
“I woke up. Your sofa smells like dog sick.”
The door slams shut. After a moment it opened a crack again. “Say something only I know.”
“The reason McGonagall always knew when you’d copied my essays? It was because it was the only time you spelled Transfiguration right.”
The door opened all the way and Sirius, blinked at him. He was only wearing an old pair of jeans and his hair was still stuck to his cheek. “What you doing outside, you daft wanker? You were inside when I went to sleep. And why are still wearing your pajamas?”
Bugger. That would explain the funny looks. Remus gathered his dignity and pushed inside. “You’ve run out of tea.”
The sleepiness was burnt away by indignation. “I have not. I never run out of tea.”
“Then you’ve hidden it well.”
Sirius slammed the door behind him and rushed into the kitchen, hiking his jeans up. Remus fixed his eyes firmly on the back of his neck and followed. He was not supposed to be interested in what Sirius wore, or in this case, didn’t wear, under his jeans. He had drawn a line, a long time ago.
Sirius flung the cupboard open. “Ta-da. There! You see – bugger.”
Remus raised an eyebrow.
Sirius glanced over him, dismayed. “I’ve been burgled! Robbed of my most precious commodity!”
Remus was already filling the kettle. “Right.”
“I had tea. I even had that weird lumpy leaf stuff you like.”
“Maybe someone smoked it at New Year.”
Sirius sighed heavily. “Maybe. Drunken bastards. Don’t even know who they were. Hang on – no. We had tea for breakfast that day. Wormtail made it.”
“You probably used it all up and forgot to buy more. Teapot?”
“Right he- bugger. Uh, I’ll make breakfast, shall I?”
“There’s no bread.”
“I told you I’d been robbed.”
Remus shook tea leaves into his mug and prepared to drink through his teeth.
“I’ve got Frosties.”
“No milk.”
“Pillaged!”
And here at last was the smell of tea. Remus crouched over his mug and breathed in, ignoring Sirius. Tea. Beautiful, fragrant tea. His tea.
“Moony?”
That was hesistant Sirius which meant he ought to listen. He drew his tea closer, just in case, and said, “Mmm?”
“If I promised to never, ever run out of tea, would you-”
“No.” Not this again.
“You don’t know what I was going to ask.”
“No, Sirius, I won’t move in with you.”
“Why not? You’re living here today? Why not live here the rest of the time?”
“I’m staying here because the commercial Floo is down and we can’t afford to pay the congestion charge for me to use the one at home. I have somewhere to live, Sirius. I live with my Dad. In Bognor.”
“But you hate commuting.”
Remus very pointedly began to do the crossword. Sirius snarled and pulled the paper out of his hands. Remus found his wand and murmured, “Accio newspaper.”
It came and Sirius came with it to loom over him. Remus pretended he wasn’t there and sipped his tea thoughtfully. Sirius loomed more purposefully. Remus filled in one, down. Sirius sat on the paper.
Remus set his tea down. “Look, we’ve discussed this before-”
A trumpet sounded and the doors of the clock crashed open. Seven mechanical dwarve burst out on springs, crashing symbols together and singing, “Hi, ho, hi, ho. Off to work you go!”
“Shit!” Sirius said, leaping up. “I’m going to be late again.”
“What the fuck is that?” He’d splashed tea all over the crossword.
“Christmas present from Nym!” Sirius yelled. “I think Meda chose it, though. It means it’s twenty to nine.”
Remus choked on his tea and raced into the main room to work out which pile his clothes were on.
Five minutes later they were sprinting down Charing Cross Road. Sirius, who Remus suspected did this every morning, seemed to have an unfair amount of breath left as he called, “See, you wouldn’t have to pay anything to commute if you were with me. You could walk to work.”
“Like we’re walking right now?” Remus panted.
“Absolutely. The rent’s really low, too.”
That wasn’t a surprise.
“Loads of great pubs round here.”
That explained New Year’s Eve.
“And there’s enough takeaways that we can eat something different every night.”
“What’s – ooff – wrong with cooking?”
Sirius cast him an incredulous look.
They turned down a side road and Remus looked around carefully. He didn’t usually approach by land and he wasn’t too sure where the entrance was from here. For the lack of a safer plan, he followed Sirius.
The bells of St Paul’s in Covent Garden began to ring nine. Sirius swerved into an alley opposite the back of the church and clattered up a fire-escape, marked with a battered sign reading, ‘Tradesman’s Entrance.’ Halfway up the steps, Remus felt his stomach spin and his feet swing into the air.
A few moments later he crashed to the floor in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic.
“Right,” Sirius said. “Sorry. Takes a bit of getting used to, that.”
Remus scrabbled to his feet and said, “Warning appreciated.”
Sirius grinned sheepishly and said, “Come on. We can still make it.”
They raced up the stairs to the fourth floor and Sirius dived for the door marked Auror Training, neatening his hair. Remus leapt after him. If they were lucky whoever was giving today’s training would be running late.
An enormous invisible hand punched him in the ribs, hurling him back against the doors. Then it grabbed him and he felt his stomach churn as he was pulled through the air. When he could breathe again he found himself dangling upside-down above the stage, his robes around his face. Something had him by the ankles and he began to wriggle, trying to squirm free.
Then he heard the voice of Alastor Moody beside his ear. “And as I have here a practical object lesson, would anyone care to remind Mr Black and Mr Lupin why they are useless little shits who’d be dead after ten minutes in the field?”
As one, the voices of their fellow trainees, droned, “Constant Vigilance.”
“Constant Vigiliance!” Moody roared and prodded Remus’ ear with his wand. “Volunteer required! Today you’ll practising your incarcerous on Black and Lupin. Remember – you can’t just catch the bastards. You have to keep ‘em, too. Any questions?”
Remus bit back a groan. It was obviously going to be one of those days. He hadn’t even managed to finish his tea.
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them because I like them.
Wordcount: 1556
Prompt: First cup of tea on a freezing morning
Cups of tea consumed in the writing of this fic: 5 (+ the one I'm drinking now)
Notes: Title from Richard III. You are not seeing this. If you think this is a fic you're imagining things. Yes, indeedy. Because I have willpower and I am not doing
blanketforts. No, I'm not.....
I'm also a tea-whore.
For the sake of my sanity let's call this an extract from an unwritten 31-part series. I like my sanity. It's shiny and glitters when the wind blows.
1 2 3 4
There was no tea in Sirius’ flat.
It was still dark and the striplight in the ceiling was buzzing like a sick billywig. Remus stared at the empty cupboard. Then, his hand shaking slightly, he ran his hand along the shelf, just in case Sirius had had a bad day and turned it invisible.
No tea. Not even some cheap supermarket blend. It wasn’t that he was expecting Sirius to have a proper selection. He wasn’t even hoping for Earl Grey or Lapsang Souchong or the awful weak Russian stuff his Aunt Amelia drank. But there was no tea at all.
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Tea wasn’t the only thing Sirius’ flat lacked. There were no clean sheets, no milk that wasn’t off, no bread, no forks (”Spoons do fine, Moony, mate.”), no exposed pieces of carpet, no non-sticky surfaces and, as he had just discovered, no hot water in the shower.
Fine.
There was a corner shop and he was sure they opened early. They certainly opened late – he had nipped in there for booze on the way to parties before. Grumpily, he shuffled his shoes on and went to search for his coat. He had no idea where Sirius kept his spare key and he didn’t care. The bastard would just have to be awake by the time he got back.
Luckily, the shop was open and the sleepy teenager behind the till gave him a friendly smile and a puzzled look when he put down the box of PG Tips and a paper. Remus managed to smile and say thank you. It was cold out and the streets were quiet, apart from the delivery vans trundling towards Berwick Market and up into Chinatown. A few homeless men were wedged into doorways but they were still asleep under their layers of cardboard. Remus looked at them and shuddered. There had been times in wizarding history when that would have been the only future open to a werewolf. Of course, these days he wasn’t likely to live that long.
It might be time to remind himself that he now possessed tea. The world wasn’t a wholly bad place. It would probably also be good to remember that Sirius was doing him a favour in letting him stay while the Floo was suspended.
Winter of bloody Discontent, his arse.
He rang the doorbell and waited for Sirius, who was probably only just awake, to open the door.
No response so he rang again.
Still nothing. His ankles were freezing. Had he forgotten to put socks on?
This time he leant on the bell until he heard Sirius swearing on the other side of the door. It cracked open and he stopped ringing.
“Who is it?” Sirius demanded suspiciously.
“Me.”
“No, it’s not. You’re asleep on my sofa.”
“I woke up. Your sofa smells like dog sick.”
The door slams shut. After a moment it opened a crack again. “Say something only I know.”
“The reason McGonagall always knew when you’d copied my essays? It was because it was the only time you spelled Transfiguration right.”
The door opened all the way and Sirius, blinked at him. He was only wearing an old pair of jeans and his hair was still stuck to his cheek. “What you doing outside, you daft wanker? You were inside when I went to sleep. And why are still wearing your pajamas?”
Bugger. That would explain the funny looks. Remus gathered his dignity and pushed inside. “You’ve run out of tea.”
The sleepiness was burnt away by indignation. “I have not. I never run out of tea.”
“Then you’ve hidden it well.”
Sirius slammed the door behind him and rushed into the kitchen, hiking his jeans up. Remus fixed his eyes firmly on the back of his neck and followed. He was not supposed to be interested in what Sirius wore, or in this case, didn’t wear, under his jeans. He had drawn a line, a long time ago.
Sirius flung the cupboard open. “Ta-da. There! You see – bugger.”
Remus raised an eyebrow.
Sirius glanced over him, dismayed. “I’ve been burgled! Robbed of my most precious commodity!”
Remus was already filling the kettle. “Right.”
“I had tea. I even had that weird lumpy leaf stuff you like.”
“Maybe someone smoked it at New Year.”
Sirius sighed heavily. “Maybe. Drunken bastards. Don’t even know who they were. Hang on – no. We had tea for breakfast that day. Wormtail made it.”
“You probably used it all up and forgot to buy more. Teapot?”
“Right he- bugger. Uh, I’ll make breakfast, shall I?”
“There’s no bread.”
“I told you I’d been robbed.”
Remus shook tea leaves into his mug and prepared to drink through his teeth.
“I’ve got Frosties.”
“No milk.”
“Pillaged!”
And here at last was the smell of tea. Remus crouched over his mug and breathed in, ignoring Sirius. Tea. Beautiful, fragrant tea. His tea.
“Moony?”
That was hesistant Sirius which meant he ought to listen. He drew his tea closer, just in case, and said, “Mmm?”
“If I promised to never, ever run out of tea, would you-”
“No.” Not this again.
“You don’t know what I was going to ask.”
“No, Sirius, I won’t move in with you.”
“Why not? You’re living here today? Why not live here the rest of the time?”
“I’m staying here because the commercial Floo is down and we can’t afford to pay the congestion charge for me to use the one at home. I have somewhere to live, Sirius. I live with my Dad. In Bognor.”
“But you hate commuting.”
Remus very pointedly began to do the crossword. Sirius snarled and pulled the paper out of his hands. Remus found his wand and murmured, “Accio newspaper.”
It came and Sirius came with it to loom over him. Remus pretended he wasn’t there and sipped his tea thoughtfully. Sirius loomed more purposefully. Remus filled in one, down. Sirius sat on the paper.
Remus set his tea down. “Look, we’ve discussed this before-”
A trumpet sounded and the doors of the clock crashed open. Seven mechanical dwarve burst out on springs, crashing symbols together and singing, “Hi, ho, hi, ho. Off to work you go!”
“Shit!” Sirius said, leaping up. “I’m going to be late again.”
“What the fuck is that?” He’d splashed tea all over the crossword.
“Christmas present from Nym!” Sirius yelled. “I think Meda chose it, though. It means it’s twenty to nine.”
Remus choked on his tea and raced into the main room to work out which pile his clothes were on.
Five minutes later they were sprinting down Charing Cross Road. Sirius, who Remus suspected did this every morning, seemed to have an unfair amount of breath left as he called, “See, you wouldn’t have to pay anything to commute if you were with me. You could walk to work.”
“Like we’re walking right now?” Remus panted.
“Absolutely. The rent’s really low, too.”
That wasn’t a surprise.
“Loads of great pubs round here.”
That explained New Year’s Eve.
“And there’s enough takeaways that we can eat something different every night.”
“What’s – ooff – wrong with cooking?”
Sirius cast him an incredulous look.
They turned down a side road and Remus looked around carefully. He didn’t usually approach by land and he wasn’t too sure where the entrance was from here. For the lack of a safer plan, he followed Sirius.
The bells of St Paul’s in Covent Garden began to ring nine. Sirius swerved into an alley opposite the back of the church and clattered up a fire-escape, marked with a battered sign reading, ‘Tradesman’s Entrance.’ Halfway up the steps, Remus felt his stomach spin and his feet swing into the air.
A few moments later he crashed to the floor in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic.
“Right,” Sirius said. “Sorry. Takes a bit of getting used to, that.”
Remus scrabbled to his feet and said, “Warning appreciated.”
Sirius grinned sheepishly and said, “Come on. We can still make it.”
They raced up the stairs to the fourth floor and Sirius dived for the door marked Auror Training, neatening his hair. Remus leapt after him. If they were lucky whoever was giving today’s training would be running late.
An enormous invisible hand punched him in the ribs, hurling him back against the doors. Then it grabbed him and he felt his stomach churn as he was pulled through the air. When he could breathe again he found himself dangling upside-down above the stage, his robes around his face. Something had him by the ankles and he began to wriggle, trying to squirm free.
Then he heard the voice of Alastor Moody beside his ear. “And as I have here a practical object lesson, would anyone care to remind Mr Black and Mr Lupin why they are useless little shits who’d be dead after ten minutes in the field?”
As one, the voices of their fellow trainees, droned, “Constant Vigilance.”
“Constant Vigiliance!” Moody roared and prodded Remus’ ear with his wand. “Volunteer required! Today you’ll practising your incarcerous on Black and Lupin. Remember – you can’t just catch the bastards. You have to keep ‘em, too. Any questions?”
Remus bit back a groan. It was obviously going to be one of those days. He hadn’t even managed to finish his tea.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 08:23 pm (UTC)“And as I have here a practical object lesson, would anyone care to remind Mr Black and Mr Lupin why they are useless little shits who’d be dead after ten minutes in the field?” HA!
It's a pity it's not a fic and I can't see it, and especially a pity that the rest of it doesn't exist. *sigh*
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 08:31 pm (UTC)Or it might be. If there was a fic here. Which there isn't, obviously ;)
Thanks for the comment (that was super-quick) :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 08:40 pm (UTC)*snicker, snicker* Moody is always such a nice and welcome addition :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 08:45 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment :) I love your icon.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 08:49 pm (UTC)♥
(Wow! I just kept myself from copy- and pasting the whole thing in here with useless comments like wah XD and hee and awww and *squeals* and... see, I'm doing it again. Bad Anna. *hits head against wall*)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:08 pm (UTC)And tea. Tea is love. I have a twenty-a-day habit and I just couldn't pass that prompt up.
Thanks for the comment :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:09 pm (UTC)We should totally have an R/S tea party, don't you think? *g*
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:42 pm (UTC)Yes, yes I would absolutely agree. Assam. It has to be Assam. And if brewing Earl Grey is going to be their foreplay, count me in. I'll even drink the stuff, if I have to. ^^
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-06 04:38 pm (UTC)Sirius: You have to try everything!
Remus: Try doing the dishes for once.
Sirius: Darn.
And later, when the dishes are clean, Remus once again has to admit he was wrong.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:17 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for the comment :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:38 pm (UTC)Oh god, I think I love you. This is brilliant. The setting - the actual descriptions of places and things - and the continuing argument about moving in together and going to Auror training... it all feels so young and hopeful and almost grown-up. They're still attending classes, but it's on whole new (forgot that word last time - sigh) terms and they have whole new things on the horizon, and oh, I love it. I love every, every word of this.
More, please, I beg you!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:53 pm (UTC)I've been struggling with a really complicated original story set in London all week. It was such a relief to write something light set there.
*twitches* Sssh. I left fandom. I did. I really did.
Thanks for the comment :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:52 pm (UTC)It's a pity that this fic wasn't really there. And that there aren't 30 other parts to the series. hee hee. I loved it!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 09:59 pm (UTC)Secretly, Sirius doesn't like tea that much. He's keeping it for Remus. ^_^
Glad you liked it :) Not that there was an it, of course ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 10:27 pm (UTC)“The reason McGonagall always knew when you’d copied my essays? It was because it was the only time you spelled Transfiguration right.”
*gigglesnort* I can just see his skeptical little face peeking out from behind the door!! And I do love Moony's wit.
<>The door opened all the way and Sirius, blinked at him. He was only wearing an old pair of jeans and his hair was still stuck to his cheek. “What you doing outside, you daft wanker? You were inside when I went to sleep. And why are still wearing your pajamas?”
Bugger. That would explain the funny looks. Remus gathered his dignity and pushed inside. “You’ve run out of tea.”
First of all, Sirius? Nnnnnnnnnngh. I love a man in just a pair of jeans and then the bed head. Oh, is he barefoot? I may die. *swoon* And I adore that Remus was so intent on his tea, he left the flat in his jammies!!
As one, the voices of their fellow trainees, droned, “Constant Vigilance.”
“Constant Vigiliance!” Moody roared and prodded Remus’ ear with his wand. “Volunteer required! Today you’ll practising your incarcerous on Black and Lupin. Remember – you can’t just catch the bastards. You have to keep ‘em, too. Any questions?”
Heh. Best Moody cameo ever! Constant vilgiliance indeed!
Loved this. Loved!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 10:35 pm (UTC)Oh, is he barefoot? I may die. - definitely.
If Remus is anything like me, he can't function properly before the first cup of tea. At least he put his coat on.
Moody would so do that to anyone who was late and Sirius is always late.
Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for the comment :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 10:50 pm (UTC)It was sweet and charming, and I loved Remus' stubborness. I also loved all the little bits of magic in there, like the fee for the floo and the begining of Moody's Auror training and the clock and oh. Every bit of it.
I especially liked this exchange:
“I told you I’d been robbed.”
Remus shook tea leaves into his mug and prepared to drink through his teeth.
“I’ve got Frosties.”
“No milk.”
“Pillaged!”
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 10:56 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-06 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-06 06:30 pm (UTC)Glad you liked it :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-06 06:51 am (UTC)Looovely! The bantering, the tea addiction, the funny looks at the store; and most of all: Moody; are all so, so very amazing.
*sigh* I miss your fic. What can we all poor fans do to convince you to write more?
no subject
Date: 2006-01-06 06:45 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed it. I was really incapable of resisting that prompt.
Thanks for the comment.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 12:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 07:29 am (UTC)Tea shopping in jammy pants. Ah, that's our Remus.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 12:18 pm (UTC)There was one morning in our Finals term when the power went out and we couldn't heat the water for tea. My whole staircase went into panic mode. Luckily a couple of people had been up revising since dawn and were decent enough to do a run down the road to the coffee shop and bring us all tea. A morning without tea is a terrifying prospect.
Thanks for the comment :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 06:35 pm (UTC)I'm not writing. Not at all ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-07 08:10 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-08 04:54 am (UTC)I love your Remus and Sirius fics!
And your Moody! He was fantastic!
btw, words cannot completely express how happy I am to see that you are writing for blanketforts. But of course, I'm not really seeing this... I'm just imagining it.
;-)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-08 10:33 am (UTC)*winces*
I imagine Moody had no patience for latecomers.
Thanks for commenting :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 05:35 pm (UTC)This is great
no subject
Date: 2006-01-22 07:12 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-01-23 03:31 am (UTC)And
no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-12 01:24 am (UTC)The sleepiness was burnt away by indignation. “I have not. I never run out of tea.”
“Then you’ve hidden it well.”
“What the fuck is that?” He’d splashed tea all over the crossword. ""
This is so awesome.