Okay, I'm back, with time and coherency on my hands.*g*
I enjoyed so much about this, I scarcely know where to start. The set up is absolutely perfect - there is something about the two of them locked away in isolation, and here, in a Scottish croft, that speaks to my heart. (I love HG'S Strange Days Indeed for much the same reason).You set up a wonderful sense of..fragility..against the backdrop of their world gone, and CI5 against them. I loved the sense of a thaw you give to both of them: As they play cards in front of a fire, learn about each other's grans, take pleasure in a snowfall, we get a wonderful picture of them drifting ever closer together, away from the blood and bullets. Just beautiful.
I loved that it was Scotland - most of my extended clan is there and I miss them like crazy at this time of year, so I enjoyed the canvas of colourful village extras - and, man, I could smell the peat!
You are a phenomenally talented writer, and, hand on my heart, this is now in my top five fics. Below are just some random highlights that I couldn't help but pick out.
Thank you for this. I loved it. Truly, madly, deeply. *g*
The metallic tang of her blood sliced the air between them, a scream without sound.
“Actually mate, I think you’ll find that’s peat.” His voice was steady, and Bodie loved him for it. “Pete? Who the hell’s..?” “Peat fuel , you dumb crud. You burn it.” “Oh,” Bodie surveyed the mud with a better appreciation. “You drink whisky by it an’ all, don’t you?”
Doyle was nothing but a long line in his sleeping bag.
Deep, deep undercover, as just themselves. Maybe Bodie really would find them a Buddha statue.
You can have him to here, after that he’s just Doyle, just your partner.
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I enjoyed so much about this, I scarcely know where to start. The set up is absolutely perfect - there is something about the two of them locked away in isolation, and here, in a Scottish croft, that speaks to my heart. (I love HG'S Strange Days Indeed for much the same reason).You set up a wonderful sense of..fragility..against the backdrop of their world gone, and CI5 against them. I loved the sense of a thaw you give to both of them: As they play cards in front of a fire, learn about each other's grans, take pleasure in a snowfall, we get a wonderful picture of them drifting ever closer together, away from the blood and bullets. Just beautiful.
I loved that it was Scotland - most of my extended clan is there and I miss them like crazy at this time of year, so I enjoyed the canvas of colourful village extras - and, man, I could smell the peat!
You are a phenomenally talented writer, and, hand on my heart, this is now in my top five fics. Below are just some random highlights that I couldn't help but pick out.
Thank you for this. I loved it. Truly, madly, deeply. *g*
The metallic tang of her blood sliced the air between them, a scream without sound.
“Actually mate, I think you’ll find that’s peat.” His voice was steady, and Bodie loved him for it.
“Pete? Who the hell’s..?”
“Peat fuel , you dumb crud. You burn it.”
“Oh,” Bodie surveyed the mud with a better appreciation. “You drink whisky by it an’ all, don’t you?”
Doyle was nothing but a long line in his sleeping bag.
Deep, deep undercover, as just themselves. Maybe Bodie really would find them a Buddha statue.
You can have him to here, after that he’s just Doyle, just your partner.