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Random Drabble Theatre
Cally, Chiana.
Back alley on a nameless world, and neither of them know what to think of the other for a moment. Guns out, pointed, and the grey-haired girl is half-smirking at her. Shifting, red leather squeaking slightly, she wants to be *certain* this is right.
No time for right and wrong, there's energy raining down on them, she turns and runs, the girl following her.
Half-drunk with the adrenaline they fall in a tumble in a disused building. And she wants more, so much *more*. Danger, blood, and she can smell burning flesh somewhere.
But not here. Not now.
--
In other news, I'm writing pre-season 8 SG-1 fic again. Sigh. Oh, the angst inherent...
Back alley on a nameless world, and neither of them know what to think of the other for a moment. Guns out, pointed, and the grey-haired girl is half-smirking at her. Shifting, red leather squeaking slightly, she wants to be *certain* this is right.
No time for right and wrong, there's energy raining down on them, she turns and runs, the girl following her.
Half-drunk with the adrenaline they fall in a tumble in a disused building. And she wants more, so much *more*. Danger, blood, and she can smell burning flesh somewhere.
But not here. Not now.
--
In other news, I'm writing pre-season 8 SG-1 fic again. Sigh. Oh, the angst inherent...