kiwisue (kiwisue) wrote,


The lads had to travel to Pago Pago for this one, and since they're on holiday I thought perhaps they (and you) would like to play a game. It's tenuously (very) based on the 7-7-7 meme, only instead of my WIP I've selected the 77th line and 7-ish following from 7 favourites stories. Unnamed, so if you would like to try guessing the titles/authors, have at it!

Line numbering will depend on the published source as viewed on my screen so we may not match. Also, I don't count spaces or headings/subheadings (or count, sometimes... all errors are my own).

Story 1 a stranger. An exciting, promising stranger.

Bodie leaned his face forward to graze against Doyle's own, a caress barely there but for their breath sliding, meeting. He traced their cheeks together; Doyle felt lips whisper against his and away again. A tilting of skin against his own, a brush of eyelashes, and Bodie's voice low and soft at his ear.


A thousand breaths that he couldn't take, a thousand songs through his veins.

"...if you get the Calvados, I'll cook dinner...."

And then Bodie was pulling away from him, and the breath rushed back through his lungs, and he could hear birds singing loudly in the garden.

Bodie was still watching him, cool as a cucumber, teasing still. Christ, he wasn't used to this, to being the one seduced. He steadied himself consciously, met Bodie's measuring gaze, and tipped his head back. He was up for the game, Bodie wouldn't have it all his way.

Story 2
"It's not fair," she grumbled. "You get all the fun."

"Sima!" Her mother shushed her quickly. "Healer, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter. When I was her age I thought everyone outside the Temple had more fun than me. It all comes even in the end. Besides Sima, you'll see him when you come to school, won't you?" He made a final knot and allowed the hovering Meri to cut it. "That's all. He'll sleep in peace now. My men will return for him."

"You're welcome to stay and share a meal," the woman smiled at her eldest daughter, understanding her youth. "Meri managed to catch a number of fish before she stumbled on the ship."

The Healer gathered his tools. "No, thank you. Perhaps another time. I've heard Meri's fish are the most tender of all."

Story 3
Bodie turned his back to him, and looked again at the woman. "No one's looking after her," he said.

Doyle looked at her, too, then stepped forward, leaving his safe hold on the car. He stifled a curse; he must have strained something in his ankle, not enough to limp, but painful all the same. He glanced quickly at his partner, his profile so close and so...carefully contained. Doyle moved forward without talking, walked until he was close to the woman, and sat on the steps near her.

Bodie watched him talking gently to her, an arm around her shoulder, soft words offered to soothe the soul and body warmth used to push away the fear. She turned her face against Doyle's shoulder, and he hugged her closely, gently. Bodie looked for Cowley, saw him standing and talking with the police officer in charge, and moved to reach him, walking steadily and unhurriedly, avoiding carefully the small puddles of melting snow and the mud.

If only the noises would recede a bit, Bodie wished--both the worldly ones, the people, the policemen, the cars; and the noise inside, the loud buzzing in his ears, the echo of the explosion in his soul.

Story 4
"The time to worry is when you don't think that. You should hear Bodie on the subject. Are you being teamed?"

"No. Cowley wants me to work solo. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Everyone else in my group has been paired off." Cook gave his friend a hopeful look, reluctant to ask but desperate for reassurance.

"Never mind, Cinders, you shall go to the ball," intoned Doyle, remembering his own doubts; some had never left him. "Got you worried, has it?"

"Not worried exactly," prevaricated Cook.

"Good, because Cowley isn't penalising you. Plenty of good agents work solo. Some of the best, now I stop to think about it. Have you met Murphy, Stuart or Jax?"

"I haven't met any of the A Squad - except you and Bodie, of course," said Cook as an obvious afterthought.

Story 5
...thinking carefully of nothing except the resilience of the flesh under his hands. Self-employment had forced him to control his temper—and sometimes he missed the old days fiercely.

At five minutes to the hour he stopped. “That’s it for today, Mister Bodie.”

“What about this amazing foot thing you promised me?”

Eyes as cold as his client’s, Doyle said, “That was ten minutes ago.”

“Well, it didn’t work.” Sitting up, and holding his hand out in the direction of the stick.

“Then you don’t pay.” Doyle placed the stick on the table without looking at his client, and was unusually brisk and noisy in washing his hands.

He accompanied Mr. Bodie to Reception. “Lucy, there’s no charge to Mister Bodie for this session. I’m off to the Post Office.” And he was gone. Mr. Bodie could open the door himself—would insist on it, even.

Story 6
Impatiently Bodie undid his own pants, freeing his straining cock. He wrapped his hand around his erection, but it didn't have the calming effect he'd intended. Impatience flared into urgency.

"Bodie, it doesn't have to be like this." Doyle grabbed Bodie's arm, gripping it painfully.

Bodie shook loose. Ignoring the desperate words, he grasped one sharp shoulder, turned Doyle toward the wall, and pushed him forward. There was no resistance when he nudged Doyle's feet apart.

Bodie covered the vulnerable back with his body to quell the words of protest. One hand caressed Doyle's body, massaging his chest, then his lower stomach, before grasping the erect cock. Doyle groaned, and nestled against him.

Story 7
Leaning back on the sofa, Bodie put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. "Suit yourself. Kedgeree's good."

He heard the hailstone sound of pouring rice and later the click of neat jars coming in and out of the spice rack (yet another part of Ray's equipage). A rich and delicious smell edged across the room and he found his mouth aching as it started to water.

"I could get used to this," he said, by means of a truce (he was being a bit of a twat, and he knew it) as he slid in under the kitchen table.

Ray nodded at him. "Good, because the chef never washes up."

"So when you get your ladies over for your famous 'spaghetti' you make them get the old marigolds out, eh?"

"Well, I do like a girl in rubber."

"Oh, scuba-divers, then?"

Discovered so far:
1. 'Sunshine and Cemeteries' by Slanted Light (found by murphybabe)
2. 'Lightside' by Anne Carr (helenraven)
3. strongly hinted at by author!
4. 'Jigsaw Puzzle' by HG (byslantedlight)
5. 'Transients' by Helen Raven (murphybabe)
6. ...a sequel to a classic, if controversial, fic
7. 'Like Gravity' by Halotolerant (hagsrus)

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