Today's Tasks...
Jan. 23rd, 2004 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
athersgeoSo what WAS I doing today? Playing Zuma? Nope. I was commenting on Hide and Seek. So here's chapter 3...
Disclaimers: See the prologue. I don't own anyone but the motel clerk.
Additional warning: In case anyone reading this has forgotten, this IS R rated.
Like I haven't already warned readers about this enough...
With thanks to Gamine, Irina and Ekat for the beta'ing once more. Thank you ladies, you are wonderful!
Please offer feedback -- it tells me how I'm doing.
~*~
Chapter 3 -- Flight
Another very simple chapter title, a little bit more specifically indicative of what's going to happen.
The journey back to Maple Street was a silent one. Alice had tired herself out in the park and she quickly fell asleep in the back of the SUV. Kimberly seemed content to watch the scenery go by, which left Eric drifting deeply into thought.
Had he imagined the man in the park?
Part of him wanted to believe he had. But if that were true, it meant he was already starting to crack, which was an unpalatable thought. Part of him wanted to put it all down to coincidence -- but, as he'd told Cawdron that morning, he didn't believe in those. All of which left him with an even more unpalatable idea: bel Abis had not only found him, but was having him watched.
Eric's still wondering if he's whacko or not.
"That's the fourth fire truck to pass us," Kimberly commented, dragging him from his thoughts.
Needed something for Kim to say that would bring him out of his thoughts, AND give a little foreshadowing of what's immediately to come. This seemed like a pretty good bet.
"Fourth?" he echoed.
"Back with us?" Kimberly replied, faint amusement in her voice.
"Sorry."
"Something happened -- in the park," Kimberly observed.
She really was perceptive. "Something," he murmured non-committally. "That was really the fourth fire truck?"
"Uh-huh. And don't change the subject."
Dogged, I think, would be the word to use on Kim at this point.
A shiver of fear travelled the length of Eric's spine. "I have a very bad feeling about this."
Big leap from Eric - but then again, when your life is going to hell in a handbasket you tend to make those kinds of leaps.
"About what?"
Eric shook his head. "Just pray I'm being paranoid."
He turned onto Ninth Avenue, off which Maple Street had been built. As he did so, he noticed a black Plymouth Prowler pull onto Ninth Avenue just behind him. It could be something thoroughly innocent and yet there was something about the situation that just screamed wrong!
"Shit."
"What?" Kimberly asked.
"Do me a favour, Kim," Eric replied. "See the Prowler two cars back?"
"Uh-huh."
"Keep an eye on him."
"Why?" she asked, fixing her attention on the SUV's rear view mirror all the same.
Actually, if you've ever tried doing this in a car, you'll know you *can't* see in the rear view mirror if it's properly adjusted for the driver. And I can't pin this particular goof on my being a non-driver (for one thing, by I wasn't!), because even as a perennial passenger, I ought to have known that one...
"Because I think he's following us."
"You really are paranoid."
Eric smiled wryly. "In my case, just because I'm paranoid it doesn't mean they aren't out to get me."
"Oh boy do I pick 'em," Kimberly muttered.
Gratuitous reference to Tommy and Dirk!
Eric made no comment. Maple Street was coming up on the right. He indicated and took the turn.
"Prowler's turned onto Maple Street," Kimberly reported.
Eric grimaced. If they knew what car he drove... But that thought ground to a halt as his eyes fell on the sight that greeted him. Ahead, and blocking the road, were the four fire trucks, all attending a huge blaze that was centred on what had been his home.
Boom...
"Fuck."
Eric glanced in the rear view mirror. The Prowler seemed to be coming to a halt in such a way as to block him in.
"Fuck."
I was originally going to have Kim object to his swearing in front of Alice, the trouble was it didn't come out quite right, so in the end, I removed her line and just left it defined as "half formed protests"
Ignoring Kimberly's half formed protests, Eric concentrated on the task at hand, namely escaping bel Abis' trap. He threw the SUV into reverse and whipped the vehicle round in a turn that would have had his high school Drivers' Ed teacher in tears and his marine instructor smiling proudly. Before the car had even finished that manoeuvre, he forced it back into drive and, with a squeal of tyres, gunned it towards the narrow gap that the startled Prowler driver was hastily attempting to fill.
Note: Not sure you can actually do this with an automatic, but I can vouch for being able to do it with a manual transmission!
"You are not going to get the SUV through that gap!" Kimberly exclaimed.
"Watch me," Eric shot back tersely.
The Prowler driver wasn't quick enough. Eric squeezed through the gap and raced back towards Ninth Avenue. Making a right turn onto Ninth, he set about plotting a nicely circuitous route to the interstate.
"What's going on?" Kimberly asked.
Kim, not unreasonably, wants to know what the hell Eric's got her into.
"I'll tell you later -- just keep an eye out for anyone tailing us," Eric replied.
Half an hour passed in tense silence as Eric piloted the SUV through the suburbs of Silverhills.
"I think we're clear," Kimberly finally said.
"Good."
"Now what?"
"Now," Eric answered, pulling onto the southbound interstate, "we get the hell outta here."
~*~
An hour passed by in strained silence as Eric drove south. Finally, however, Kimberly could stand it no longer.
"Do I get an explanation or are you just going to retreat into silence until we hit the border?"
"It's a long story."
"After what happened back there, it had better be a long story," Kimberly retorted.
Kim's pissed - and I can't say I blame her.
Eric flinched. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you and Alice sucked into this mess."
The lost and broken tone to Eric's voice cut through Kimberly's own anxieties and for the first time in more than an hour, she actively looked at him. It was hard to judge from his profile -- particularly in the gathering gloom of dusk -- but it looked to her as though Eric was...
"Pull over," Kimberly ordered.
"Wha...?"
"Eric, you said you trusted me...just pull over."
Kimberly noted that he didn't argue any further. Instead, he pulled off to the side of the interstate. It didn't surprise her that the SUV had hardly stopped before Eric had stumbled out of it. Nor did it surprise her to see him get less than a yard away from the car before doubling over and vomiting.
Kim, as a mom, is bound to be good at spotting the signs of someone close to the point of throwing up. I also felt that this reaction was probably the most likely for Eric - combination of shock and the come-down from the adrenaline rush of escaping.
"Reaction," Kimberly muttered, undoing her seatbelt, "is a bitch."
Checking that Alice was still fast asleep on the back seat, she climbed out of the SUV and made for the rear of the vehicle. She smiled faintly as she opened the tailgate and her eyes fell on the assorted bits and pieces Eric seemed to carry 'just in case' which included a bottle of water and a box of tissues.
I don't picture Eric as ever having been a Boy Scout, but he definitely follows the 'be prepared' maxim!
She picked them up and then headed over to where Eric was still bent double. Wordlessly she offered the bottle to him. Equally silently he accepted it. She watched as he rinsed his mouth out.
"Better?" she asked, offering the tissues.
"I guess." His reply was quiet as he took a tissue out of the box and started to clean himself up. "How'd you know?"
Kimberly smiled faintly. "I'm a mom -- I'm good at picking the signs."
Slowly, Eric straightened. He still looked pale but, Kimberly decided, not the luridly pale that had so alarmed her a scant five minutes earlier.
"Thanks -- I think."
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Kimberly asked.
"Marines -- even ex-marines -- aren't supposed to react like that."
Eric tries to live up to the Hollywood stereotype...
Kimberly rolled her eyes. "Macho bullshit doesn't suit you."
...which Kim points out is rather stupid...
"Besides -- I didn't want to worry you."
...leaving him no choice but to admit the real reason.
Kimberly sighed. "OK. Let's get one thing perfectly clear here, buddy. I do not need to be wrapped in cotton. Whatever the explanations are, I can take them." Eric opened his mouth to say something, but Kimberly shook her head. "To put it another way, would you be soft-soaping me if I was Jen?"
"No -- but..."
"No buts," Kimberly retorted firmly. "I may not have her formal training but that doesn't mean I'm helpless or a damsel to be protected. I was kicking bad-guy butt when I was fifteen and you've met Dirk," she added somewhat wryly.
Another Gamine inspired rewrite. I can't remember what I initially had here, but I know she took one look at it and said "you need to rewrite that" - and as usual, she was absolutely right!
Eric looked sheepish. "I'm sorry."
Kimberly smiled. "Apology accepted."
"We need to hit the road again -- won't take them long to figure out what I'm likely to have done," Eric commented.
"Right." Kimberly nodded. "Did you have somewhere in mind?"
"There's a Novotel just east of Malibu -- I was thinking of breaking there."
So nearly to the South of Malibu...until I looked at the map and realised that would probably put it in the Pacific Ocean... This ISN'T the silliest Californian Geographical gaff I've nearly made (the location of Biocon's hide out in Max Force initially caused a friend of mine, who's FROM that area, to break down in hysterical laughter - but that's another story!), but... The moral of this: Always, always, ALWAYS if you're going to mention real places, look 'em up on the map first!
"OK. We'll get going then." Kimberly watched, somewhat amused, as Eric automatically made for the driver's side. "Uh-uh. Passenger side, buddy." Eric opened his mouth to say something then closed it again and meekly headed for the passenger side. "You can give the explanations when we get to the Novotel -- right now, you need some rest."
"Yes ma'am." But there was no sarcasm to the comment as he sank into the passenger seat of the SUV.
Kimberly wasn't surprised when Eric fell asleep before she'd even got properly onto the road. She risked a glance in his direction and slowly shook her head. Whatever this was, she was certain of one thing: It was trouble that Eric didn't deserve.
If Kim wasn't in protect mode before, she is now.
~*~
It was the sound of the SUV engine cutting out that finally woke Eric.
"How do you feel?" Kimberly asked.
"Better," Eric replied, and realised that it wasn't just a reflex answer -- he really did feel better. It was the first time in a long while that he hadn't even so much as dreamed, never mind had a nightmare.
Kimberly seemed to sense his train of thought. "Good."
Looking around, Eric realised they were in a car park. "Where are we?"
"The Novotel just east of Malibu," Kimberly replied. "And it's a little after ten o'clock in the evening.
Eric turned to face her, more than a little surprised. "What the hell speed were you driving?!"
Kimberly chuckled. "Speed limit is only something that applies when you see a cop -- or when you're driving round town." Eric's eyes widened. "I'm kidding. I was doing maybe eighty. Eighty-five tops. Besides," she added, "you must have been going some before we pulled over."
The line about the cops is a maxim I have to admit to living by, to a certain extent. I'm not sure whether I goofed on the speeds Kim mentioned, though. I never DID entirely figure out what the Californian limit was...
Eric found himself blushing as he realised he probably had been paying scant attention to his speed -- or his surroundings for that matter. Just as well she made you pull over, he reflected.
"So. Do you want to go see about a room?" Kimberly asked.
Eric nodded. "Sure." He opened the passenger door to climb out. "Coming?"
"No -- I'll wait here with Alice."
Eric glanced back and realised the six-year-old was still fast asleep. "She slept through the whole thing?" he asked incredulous.
Kimberly chuckled. "Be thankful that she did."
Eric thought about that for a second. "I think I am."
He slid out of the SUV and headed across to reception. The night clerk looked sleepy and bored; although he made an effort to perk up a little as Eric entered reception.
"Can I help?" the clerk asked.
Eric bit back a grin as that effort was completely ruined by a cavernous yawn. The clerk looked embarrassed. "I'd like two rooms."
"Double, twin, single, connecting?"
Eric frowned for a moment, mentally translating what the clerk had said into plain English. "One double room, one twin. Connecting."
"How many nights?"
Eric frowned again, this time debating his own answer. "If I say two for now -- can I increase that if my plans change?"
The clerk looked a little surprised. "Sure."
Guess you're more used to the Mr and Mrs Smiths coming out here for a one-night stand, huh? "OK -- two nights."
"Smoking or non?"
"Non."
"How many adults? How many children?"
"Two and one."
The clerk looked up. "You sure you want two rooms rather than a suite?"
Eric shrugged. "What's the difference?"
"It's ten dollars more, but you get a kitchenette as well."
If I thought we'd be holing up here permanently, I'd probably say yes, but... "No -- I'll stick with the two rooms."
"Name, please?"
"Myers."
I had a complaint about this piece, and the next line (about the credit card), pointing out that if he was really on the run, he wouldn't have given either his real name OR used his credit card (you can be tracked that way), to which my answer is: Firstly, the guy's not thinking entirely straight. Secondly, the guy has little to no covert ops training. If I were to rewrite this, I'd probably see if I couldn't do something slightly better than this.
"OK -- one moment." The clerk started scribbling details into the motel register. "Credit card, please."
Eric handed over the piece of plastic and waited while the clerk printed off the card receipt, then signed it when it was proffered. A few moments later and the clerk produced two keys.
"Rooms 402 and 403. Fourth floor. Do you need a hand with baggage?"
Eric shook his head. "No -- thank you."
Eric headed back to the SUV. Kimberly had obviously decided to stretch her legs a little while she'd been waiting as she was now standing beside the car. Languidly she brought her left arm across her chest, bringing the right arm up in front of it to pull, stretching her left shoulder. Then she repeated the move for the right shoulder. For the second time that evening, Eric felt his mouth go dry -- but this time it was anything but through fear. Damn but she was graceful! Get a grip Myers -- the last thing you need right now is to let yourself get distracted.
Then Kim stretched her hamstrings by bending right over, leaving Eric with a view that sent his blood rushing south at dizzying speed. This is just lust. It's just situation. It's not real. He swallowed, hard. This is not the time for this! It's bad enough bel Abis knows about her -- don't make it worse.
There was a chuckle. "So there is a guy in there after all -- I was beginning to wonder."
Yep - Eric is a guy all right, he's just normally in a better position to control his thoughts/feelings/reactions. This little interlude is a major flag that all is NOT well with Eric at this point and that there's going to be a major breakdown very soon.
The blood that had rushed south suddenly headed north as Eric found himself blushing fit to give a beetroot a serious case of envy. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Kimberly straightened and turned to face him. "Don't be. I don't mind. Just don't go all Neanderthal on me and start wolf-whistling." The words and tone were serious but there was a spark of humour dancing in her eyes as she said them.
Eric found himself chuckling weakly. "Do I look like the sorta guy who wolf-whistles women?"
Kimberly grinned. "You tell me."
Eric sighed. Myers you're being a complete idiot. Knock it off and get moving. "I got us two rooms," he said, finally joining Kimberly beside the SUV and trying to ignore the pout she gave him for the subject change.
She nodded. "OK."
"Do you want me to carry Alice in?"
Kimberly tipped her head on one side. "You think you can do it without waking her up?" Eric nodded. "Then be my guest." Eric moved to open one of the rear doors to pick up the sleeping six-year-old. "Want me to carry the bag?"
"Bag?" Eric repeated blankly.
Kimberly opened the tailgate and produced his 'emergency' bag. "This bag -- I'm kinda presuming you have clothes in there, amongst other things?" Eric nodded. "If I bring this in, at least it sorta looks like we're on holiday rather than on the run."
Kim the practical - it's another sign that Eric isn't thinking too straight that she's the one who thought of that, not him.
Eric looked sheepish. "Good point."
Five minutes later, with Alice -- still asleep -- in his arms and the SUV securely locked up, Eric led Kimberly across to reception.
The night clerk looked up as they entered. Seeing Eric's arms were full with sleeping child, he turned his attention to Kimberly. "Mrs Myers -- ah, can you give me the license plate of your vehicle, just so's we don't tow it accidentally."
Never one to resist giving Eric a cause to be embarrassed...
Inwardly, Eric cringed. He'd said nothing about who the other adult was -- the night clerk was just assuming...but he had to admit, they did look like they might be a family...which was strangely not as uncomfortable a thought as it might have been.
Eric realises that at least *part* of him wants to quit running at this point.
Without missing a beat, Kimberly smiled at Eric. "Honey, do you want to take Alice on up while I deal with this?"
"I can..." Eric felt Kimberly's gaze bore through him. "Sure."
Eric now expects to be thoroughly toasted...
As he made for the stairs, behind him he heard, "Will a vehicle description do? Neither my husband nor I can ever remember the darn plate number..."
Five minutes or so later, just as Eric started to lay Alice down on one of the single beds in the twin room, Kimberly joined him.
"I didn't know you were such a good liar," he observed.
"I didn't know we were married," Kimberly retorted.
"Ah...yeah..." Eric gulped. "Um..." He looked round and realised Kimberly was grinning. "You know that wasn't anything I said," he observed.
Kim has a better sense of humour than that.
"Uh-huh." She nodded. "He's bored. All he gets to see are couples." She shrugged and chuckled. "It was worth it to see your face, though."
Irina wanted me to change 'couples' because it made one night stands sound more respectable than they actually are. I completely agree with her on that point - the trouble is, can *you* think of another phrase? No. Nor could I, so couples it was!
Eric sighed. "When you've finished having fun at my expense," he muttered.
Kimberly chuckled again. "I'm only teasing."
"I know -- I just..." He sighed again. "Never mind."
Doesn't want to admit to the fact that he's not used to being teased - after all, how pathetic does it sound that you've never really had the sort of relationships where teasing isn't automatically malicious?
Kimberly looked puzzled. Eric just shook his head. "I'll...ah...leave you to put Alice to bed."
"Do you have a spare t-shirt in that bag?" Kim asked, gesturing to where she'd set the bag down.
Eric stared, surprised and a little confused by the rapid change of subject. "Yeah."
"May I borrow it?"
A sudden, vivid image flashed across Eric's mind of Kimberly in his spare t-shirt and nothing else. "Sure -- help yourself." He headed into the other room before he embarrassed himself further, fairly sure that Kimberly had a pretty good idea of why he'd made such a hasty retreat.
A shower, he decided, is what I need. Give me a chance to get my head together before Kim starts demanding explanations. He smiled wryly. Preferably a cold one.
And Eric's life spins even further out of control...
~*~
This scene was a toughie. I knew I needed to have the exposition in. I also knew I needed to have it come out reasonably gently to act as a counter point to the next chapter (which was one of the most pre-written of the lot; it was LITERALLY written after I finished Scars!). I struggled for about a day and a half with this one; in the end, finishing it at something like 2am, and even then I wasn't convinced by it. But, from the subsequent reaction (starting with Gamine's when she first saw it ["Perfect"]), I think I ended up doing a pretty good job.
It took a little doing, but Kimberly eventually got Alice changed into her t-shirt and tucked into bed. She then rummaged through Eric's bag until she found his spare t-shirt and pulled it on.
Time to see if I can get an explanation.
She knocked on the connecting door, which Eric had closed behind him when he'd left. When there was no response, she opened the door and slid into Eric's room. He was not immediately apparent, but the sound of the shower running told Kimberly where he was.
"Eric?" she called, to alert him to her presence.
"Be with you in a moment," came the reply.
Kimberly nodded. "OK."
Even as she replied, the water was shut off. She sat down on the bed and glanced around the room. It was rather unspectacular as motel rooms went -- just the bare minimum of furniture: Bed, dresser, two chairs and a table on which a TV that looked as if it had seen better days had been placed. Basic, Kimberly decided, but I guess that doesn't matter.
Then her eyes fell on something draped over the back of one of the chairs: The t-shirt Eric had been wearing. Kimberly stared, wide eyed. What the...? Why had he left that behind? Did it mean he'd undressed in the room? Was he about to walk out of the bathroom completely naked? But another survey of the room didn't reveal his jeans.
Kim's first "ohmygosh" moment.
"I guess you want that explanation now, huh?" Eric asked quietly from the bathroom door, distracting Kimberly's train of thought.
Looking up, Kimberly suddenly found the room was a lot hotter and more airless than before. He was leaning casually against the doorpost, white motel towel draped around his neck. She found her eyes slowly travelling from his bare feet, up the length of his jeans-clad legs, over the expanse of well-defined stomach and chest to see the faintly amused expression on his face and his still-damp hair, which was sticking up in little spikes.
I still think, two years later, that this is one of my best pieces of description. And Kim's second "ohmygosh" moment.
"Uh..." Kimberly swallowed. "Explanations are good," she finally managed.
He chuckled humourlessly. "Just remember, you were the one who asked not to be soft-soaped." Dumbly, Kimberly nodded. "I was a marine for eight years. During what turned into my final posting, in Kosovo, I was taken captive by a cell of the Kosova Liberation Army under the command of a man named Zafar bel Abis. I spent two months in his...'care' before being 'liberated' by UN Weapons Inspectors."
Slowly, Eric pushed away from the doorpost and turned so that his back was to Kimberly.
And the third "ohmygosh" moment...
She could only stare in silent shock. Stark against Eric's natural skin colour were four, livid, quarter-inch wide scars that ran horizontally right across his lower back and snaked round onto his right side. Between them, she could see fainter marks that suggested that the whole of his lower back was a mass of scar tissue.
Kimberly swallowed. "What happened?" she asked.
"bel Abis' men had...interesting ways of persuading me to give them information," he replied, turning back to face her again.
"You mean they tortured you," Kimberly stated.
"That's one word for it," Eric agreed.
Kimberly felt a surge of hot, boiling rage. "How can people do that to another human being?"
She's the first person who's asked this question in the whole series. Jen didn't - her background in law enforcement pretty much gave her the answer - and Wes didn't because he guessed it was something Eric couldn't answer.
"You're asking the wrong guy," Eric replied. "I was just the poor sap they tapped for information. Apparently," he added in a horrible parody of humour, "I'm unique -- or so my former CO told me this morning."
Kimberly couldn't still the shudder as the pieces started to drop into place in her mind. "This guy...bel Abis -- he's still out there?"
"Still out there and bears me a grudge for not only surviving but indirectly leading to him getting charged for war crimes. It's a grudge he's had three years to work on." Eric gave an apparently careless shrug.
"He's the guy who's after you, isn't he?"
"Yep."
Kimberly studied the way Eric was now standing. He was leaning against the doorpost again, as though he was completely at ease but she could almost literally see the tension rolling off him in waves. Or was it fear? In a sudden bolt of insight, Kimberly understood. He was scared. Scared of what bel Abis might do, but more scared of what she was going to do.
Slowly, she stood up and closed the gap between them. "How many people know about what happened to you?" she asked softly. Eric shrugged. Kimberly read the gesture as a sign that she was on the right track. "And how many of them ran away?" Eric's eyes widened at the question. And that confirmed it. "I'm not running, Eric."
"Why?" he whispered, and Kimberly could hear the disbelief in the word.
She looked up and met his gaze. "Because there's nothing to run from." She lightly traced the portion of the top scar that was within her reach with her fingers, feeling him flinch away from the touch. For a second, she wondered if it was through pain, but the surprised expression on his face suggested the flinch was more involuntary than anything else, as though no-one had ever wanted to touch the scars. "This isn't anything to run from." She traced the second scar and again he flinched. "This isn't you." She traced the third scar, watching as he struggled to control the reflex. "This doesn't define you." She traced the bottom scar. This time, no flinch. "This is something that was done to you, but it doesn't change who you are."
Eric stared at her. Kimberly refused to back down from the stare. "And who do you think I am?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper now.
"You are Eric Myers. A good man who's seen a lot of bad things." His head dropped, breaking eye contact. She reached out and gently lifted his head, forcing him to meet her gaze once more. "And you are the guy I trust, not just with my life, but with the life of my daughter. I believe in you, Eric."
He looked stunned. "Kim...I...I don't know."
She smiled reassuringly. "It's OK. It's going to be OK."
"How can you be so sure?" This time, the disbelief was replaced by wonder.
"Because I know you," Kimberly replied, simply. Gently, she drew her hand along the line of his jaw and to her surprise he reflexively leaned into the touch.
"We should probably get some sleep," Eric murmured.
Kimberly smiled again, judging that Eric wasn't ready for any more emotional honesty, and nodded. "Yeah -- we probably should." She withdrew her hand, and heard him give a barely audible sigh.
"I...guess I'll see you in the morning." Eric seemed reluctant to let her actually leave.
"Oh, you can count on that," Kimberly replied.
Eric gave a weak smile in response. "Sleep well, then."
Kimberly nodded, stepping away from him. "And you." She crossed the room to the connecting door, then turned back to him. "G'night."
"Good night," he replied, nodding.
She headed into her own room, pulling the door shut behind her.
Getting to this point was emotionally draining - which is probably at least part of the reason why I didn't see it worked out fine. I think, over all and despite my misgivings about it initially, this is probably one of the strongest scenes I've written. It's certainly the best expositing of the situation that I've managed!
~*~
Eric watched the door close behind her and felt his knees start to buckle. He hadn't expected her to accept the scars and what had happened in Kosovo -- and to hear her say she trusted him and believed in him...
And she meant it, too.
It was both wonderful and terrifying.
It was a great gift, but it put the onus on him to get them all out of this situation.
I'll phone Cawdron first thing in the morning, he decided. There's bound to be some sort of plan.
He made it across to the bed and sat down. Sleep was starting to look better and better. Pitching the towel in the general direction of the bathroom, he lay down, turned the light down low and closed his eyes.
Leaving the light on, though low, and not getting under the covers (never mind not taking off his jeans) is all symptomatic of the situation. One of the things Eric defines to Wes as being a lasting side effect is his not being good with total darkness or total silence (hence the light), while not bothering to get fully undressed and sleeping on top of the covers is a sign that he's ready to get up and go at a moment's notice.
Yes, I think I am going to do the whole story!
Meantime, are there any other stories of mine you'd like to see commentary for?
EEE!
Date: 2004-01-23 08:52 pm (UTC)I still think this is my very very favorite bit (well, the beginning of) my very very favorite story of yours.
xo
j
Re: EEE!
Date: 2004-01-23 08:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-01-25 04:35 am (UTC)I was originally going to have Kim object to his swearing in front of Alice, the trouble was it didn't come out quite right, so in the end, I removed her line and just left it defined as "half formed protests"
Yeah, well, with the backdrop of Eric's home turning into a massive fireball, I doubt she would have been entirely focused on Alice's "virgin ears," so to speak.
Note: Not sure you can actually do this with an automatic, but I can vouch for being able to do it with a manual transmission!
I want to hear the story behind that!
The moral of this: Always, always, ALWAYS if you're going to mention real places, look 'em up on the map first!
Amen to that. I've learned that the hard way too.
The line about the cops is a maxim I have to admit to living by, to a certain extent. I'm not sure whether I goofed on the speeds Kim mentioned, though. I never DID entirely figure out what the Californian limit was...
Don't look at me, but on Interstate 70 on the East Coast, she could have pulled that off. And that maxim applies to most Maryland drivers...