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Mwahaha.
Heheheh. Crossover fic, inspired by the SamCarter100 lj. But it's 300 words, so...
Crossover: Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Title: Whispered Slowly To Me
Rating: PG13 Spoilers: Divide and Conquer
by Ana Lyssie Cotton
Sam isn't sure what to make of the man and woman across from her. They think she's responsible--the thought sickens her. She can't even contemplate it.
Blood and skin and fingernails ripping at her.
"Tell us, Ms. Carter," the man stood, paced, tilted his head. "You were there, in the hotel room, and you don't--"
"I shouldn't be here." her voice is a scared little-girl whisper.
"Yeah, honey, that's what we all think." The woman was hard-edged, her dark eyes glittering with something Sam didn't want to name.
"Or, you did want to be there. Is that it?"
Blood and skin and--she looked up at Detective Robert Goren, and she felt a little of the hate Jolinar had for primitive species surface. "I didn't do it."
Detective Eames snorted. "You were found in the hotel room, soaked to the skin in the victim's blood, Ms. Carter. And you expect us to believe--"
"No." That isn't--Martouf dead in her arms and Jolinar so very angry--what happened. "I need..."
"You need what? A drink of water? I'm sure we could get you that, Ms. Carter. A nice glass of water. Eames?"
He moved too much. Turning, twitching, pacing and watching her like an experiment that could explode at a moment's notice.
Dizzy, disoriented, desolate aching soul--Jolinar used to think she was pragmatic.
"Ms. Carter?"
"It's Colonel." The title strengthened her, gave a little of her mind back. "Colonel Carter. And I would like a lawyer."
And they nodded at her and left. She knew they were right, she was wrong. Blood on her skin and fingernails and hair. All of it his. Her eyes widened.
Memory was fragmenting back at her; he'd begged at the end. No. Martouf had begged.
Jack had never known what hit him.
Crossover: Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Title: Whispered Slowly To Me
Rating: PG13 Spoilers: Divide and Conquer
by Ana Lyssie Cotton
Sam isn't sure what to make of the man and woman across from her. They think she's responsible--the thought sickens her. She can't even contemplate it.
Blood and skin and fingernails ripping at her.
"Tell us, Ms. Carter," the man stood, paced, tilted his head. "You were there, in the hotel room, and you don't--"
"I shouldn't be here." her voice is a scared little-girl whisper.
"Yeah, honey, that's what we all think." The woman was hard-edged, her dark eyes glittering with something Sam didn't want to name.
"Or, you did want to be there. Is that it?"
Blood and skin and--she looked up at Detective Robert Goren, and she felt a little of the hate Jolinar had for primitive species surface. "I didn't do it."
Detective Eames snorted. "You were found in the hotel room, soaked to the skin in the victim's blood, Ms. Carter. And you expect us to believe--"
"No." That isn't--Martouf dead in her arms and Jolinar so very angry--what happened. "I need..."
"You need what? A drink of water? I'm sure we could get you that, Ms. Carter. A nice glass of water. Eames?"
He moved too much. Turning, twitching, pacing and watching her like an experiment that could explode at a moment's notice.
Dizzy, disoriented, desolate aching soul--Jolinar used to think she was pragmatic.
"Ms. Carter?"
"It's Colonel." The title strengthened her, gave a little of her mind back. "Colonel Carter. And I would like a lawyer."
And they nodded at her and left. She knew they were right, she was wrong. Blood on her skin and fingernails and hair. All of it his. Her eyes widened.
Memory was fragmenting back at her; he'd begged at the end. No. Martouf had begged.
Jack had never known what hit him.
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That's just evil. Mwhahaha indeed.
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