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*tugs at bangs*
I have this barely deniable urge to re-read two completely dissimilar books.
1. Tree of Hands by Barbara Vine. The tale of a young woman who's seeing her psychopathic mother again, her kid, and about three other people. And it's all fucked up. There's death and sex and murder and strange attractions and people who are just... Completely nucking futs. But it's a beautiful story. And what I'd REALLY like is to get it on tape and listen. Again. 'Cause that's what I did last time.
2. Harlot's Ruse by Esther Friesner. The tale of a harlot. *g* Told in the first person, with a lot of mis-adventure and fun.
And these books could NOT be more different. Really.
Had less porn in my head today. And Sam and Jack? SO a bad influence. There isn't a partners set in my head that didn't either kiss, argue, makeup, etc, etc today... And all at once. Sigh.
Found an old Doctor Who/Farscape scenelet. Heh. Amused me.
"Let me get this right. You can get us out of E-Space, but you can't get us home."
"That's right." The Doctor looked sad, "I could try, but I suspect it wouldn't work properly. Wrong technology, really. Am I wrong, K-9?"
"Negative, Master." The mechanical dog spoke up. "There is a .0002 probability of success."
"You see? Even K-9 agrees--" He paused. "K-9, did you say .0002?"
"Affirmative, Master."
He slapped a hand across his forehead. ".0002? That's one of my lucky numbers!"
"He's even more irritating than you, Crichton." Aeryn observed as she arrived with Rygel in tow. "And I didn't think that was possible."
"Gee, Aeryn, he's going to get us back to our dimension, and you're making fun of him? Not very diplomatic, there."
Her hand caressed the butt of her pulse pistol. "I have all the diplomacy I need right here."
"Doctor," The strawberry blonde head of Romana poked out from underneath one of the consoles she was fixing, "I've almost got this bit done. Can you run back to the TARDIS and check we've got the compensators set right?"
The curly-haired man nodded, and looked at Aeryn, "Would you like to accompany me, my dear?" There was something vaguely less unfocussed about him, John decided. Perhaps it was the way the blue eyes had suddenly sharpened when she'd touched her pulse pistol. Perhaps not.
"I'll go," He volunteered hastily--before Aeryn could accept, or make any stupid moves. He waggled a finger at her, "Be nice to Romana while we're gone."
Aeryn Sun merely growled at him.
1. Tree of Hands by Barbara Vine. The tale of a young woman who's seeing her psychopathic mother again, her kid, and about three other people. And it's all fucked up. There's death and sex and murder and strange attractions and people who are just... Completely nucking futs. But it's a beautiful story. And what I'd REALLY like is to get it on tape and listen. Again. 'Cause that's what I did last time.
2. Harlot's Ruse by Esther Friesner. The tale of a harlot. *g* Told in the first person, with a lot of mis-adventure and fun.
And these books could NOT be more different. Really.
Had less porn in my head today. And Sam and Jack? SO a bad influence. There isn't a partners set in my head that didn't either kiss, argue, makeup, etc, etc today... And all at once. Sigh.
Found an old Doctor Who/Farscape scenelet. Heh. Amused me.
"Let me get this right. You can get us out of E-Space, but you can't get us home."
"That's right." The Doctor looked sad, "I could try, but I suspect it wouldn't work properly. Wrong technology, really. Am I wrong, K-9?"
"Negative, Master." The mechanical dog spoke up. "There is a .0002 probability of success."
"You see? Even K-9 agrees--" He paused. "K-9, did you say .0002?"
"Affirmative, Master."
He slapped a hand across his forehead. ".0002? That's one of my lucky numbers!"
"He's even more irritating than you, Crichton." Aeryn observed as she arrived with Rygel in tow. "And I didn't think that was possible."
"Gee, Aeryn, he's going to get us back to our dimension, and you're making fun of him? Not very diplomatic, there."
Her hand caressed the butt of her pulse pistol. "I have all the diplomacy I need right here."
"Doctor," The strawberry blonde head of Romana poked out from underneath one of the consoles she was fixing, "I've almost got this bit done. Can you run back to the TARDIS and check we've got the compensators set right?"
The curly-haired man nodded, and looked at Aeryn, "Would you like to accompany me, my dear?" There was something vaguely less unfocussed about him, John decided. Perhaps it was the way the blue eyes had suddenly sharpened when she'd touched her pulse pistol. Perhaps not.
"I'll go," He volunteered hastily--before Aeryn could accept, or make any stupid moves. He waggled a finger at her, "Be nice to Romana while we're gone."
Aeryn Sun merely growled at him.