Discovered in Temptation
Mar. 17th, 2007 12:10 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
asymphototropic.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
discoveredinaljMore trouble in paradise.
[I've outpaced my much beleaguered editor lately, so this may prove rough reading. Everyone put on your mucking-out boots before slogging forward. Don't be surprised to see status-post posting changes later.]
Contrary Virtue
Part Eleven
"Shades of me misspent youth."
Bodie chuckled as he glanced around at the stacked dry goods in the small storage space off the galley. Here two hammocks had been slung to accommodate them, almost as if the passengers were shelved supplies.
Still they were grateful for the privacy and peace.
He pulled up a wooden crate and sat on it.
RD did likewise.
"Now then, we've a bit of free time, and you've quite a story to tell me."
RD coughed and grimaced, ruefully shaking his head.
"'S all right. I'll provide the sound effects, you'll do the gestures, and we'll go forward like mod improv theatre."
In his mind, Bodie could almost hear the replies that went with RD's eloquent hands.
"You were a cop, working in England."
Yeah.
"Locale. Hmm, a big city?"
The biggest.
"London? Got it. A plod? Or plainclothes man?"
Pounding the pavement at first, then promoted, moved up in the world.
Or down, depending on your perspective, Bodie reflected grimly. "Detective constable? Good at what you did, weren't you? Can tell that, without asking. And your specialty?"
RD mimicked mainlining.
"Drugs Squad. See, told you we'd rip right along. So, Detective Constable Ray Doyle was on a case one day, investigating something, all in the merry month of, hm, when? How long ago was it?"
The forlorn shrug set Bodie back a peg.
"Don't know? Can't remember. Ah, too bad. Got some memory problems?"
Vague assent.
"Sort of hazy on the details? Yeah, thought so. Though it seems like your memory's getting sharper, better focused lately. Uh huh. Well, we'll muddle along, won't we? So, you don't remember when exactly, but can you remember what? That last case of yours bought you a world of trouble, didn't it? Got in over your head somehow, and no one to bail you out of it."
Too bloody right. RD mimicked a large explosion, with intense heat.
"Things blew up on you, got hot. Figuratively? No? Literally, an explosion." Bodie was rather pleased. He thought he might have a knack for detective work, previously unsuspected. Or maybe RD was rubbing off on him.
He mistook his quickening pulse for eagerness.
RD scrunched his face in intense concentration. That familiar, painful clicking noise sounded in his throat. "Lab," he croaked.
"Lab, laboratory? Illegal, of course. A chem lab making street drugs? Dangerous place, no safeguards, puts the whole damned neighbourhood in jeopardy. Dare say you hated the villains, wanted to nail them hard."
The scowl of agreement was a menacing sight.
"So you were investigating a drugs lab. Before or after the explosion? What, during? Hell, mate, you were right into the flaming brimstone, weren't you?"
RD indicated choking, then a blow to the head.
"Smoke inhalation. You were injured, knocked unconscious. Let me guess. When you came to, you found you weren't in Casualty."
Not by a damn long shot.
"Dropped down for the count. Woke in the hands of scoundrels." Bodie felt the first acidic twinge of discomfort in the pit of his gut. He ignored it, turned straight back to pursuing the tale.
Again came the gesture for mainlining. RD indicated the place on his inner arm that bore scarred needle tracks.
Bodie felt a sudden unexplained sweat break out on his forehead. Impatiently he wiped it away, clearing the tangled hair out of his vision. "They were shooting you up with something vile. Yeah, I saw them at it, the slimy cruds. Seemed to me the effects were like scopolamine, but longer lasting. Some kind of truth serum, maybe something new I've never heard of? Were they sweating you for information?"
A simple negative. "Ex- exp- eh-" RD gasped to a rasping halt.
Bodie felt sick. "Fuck, no." His head ached, his pulse throbbed. "The bastards. Experimenting on humans? On you?" He felt the urge to attack surge up in him, an irrational impulse to assault, directed against some unseen enemy. There was an intense need to bite, scratch, maim.
Anger evolved rapidly to rage. Too late, it came to him. All in the effort to discover and aid, he had gotten close, then closer, merged, joined wholly. It had gone beyond empathy, he was inextricably entangled, couldn't escape.
He was trapped.
He tried to stand. Shook his head. "Damn the bastards to hell." The soldier's response to imminent threat, a classic berserker rage was upon him, but with no enemy in sight.
His heart pounded ruthlessly in his ribcage, the resultant pulse painful against his skull. He staggered a step, worried he might fall.
Then there were strong hands gripping his arms, steadying him. A sort of crooning, humming sound came to him, an effort to soothe.
Bodie sucked in a deep breath, then another, deeper. When his voice returned he muttered, "'S okay. I'm all right." He sank down again. "We can carry on."
RD refused.
"I tell you, I'm all right now. Just got caught up in the moment."
RD's next head shake was more emphatic, accompanied by a gentling rub along Bodie's arm.
"Sorry, I'm sorry. Seen too little action lately. Sometimes, I've just got to strike at something, take down some target that needs it. I get so's I crave an act of carefully calculated, erm, destruction."
He laughed at his own conclusion.
RD tilted his head, nodded, quirked a small smile. He reached forward and patted the back of Bodie's hand.
"But seriously, mate," Bodie massaged his pounding head, rubbed at his eyes. "I really need to know the rest. The closer we get to zero hour, the more details I've got to have. We are going to hit the home turf running. The villains won't see the strike coming 'til it's too late for retaliation."
RD bit his lower lip, contemplating the probability of that scenario. It was an expression of grave doubt.
But having arrived at this point, Bodie wouldn't call a halt. "Come on. You've got to tell me the rest. You never came to Africa willingly? No, of course not. They had to take you out of the picture, one way or another. Transported against your will. It was an old-fashioned spot of shanghai, wasn't it?"
RD pulled an illusory wallet from his pocket, counting out invisible cash.
Bodie clenched his jaw against another stream of expletives. "Kidnapped, bought and sold. Went from bad to worse, with no hope of escape here. Our generalissimo must have made that London lot seem like piddling amateurs by contrast."
Green eyes glinted, arctic, furious.
"What did he want with you?" Bodie thought he knew already, and shuddered away from the knowledge.
The answer, when it came, knocked him sideways with surprise.
RD used his fingers to indicate a tedious marching motion, clicking repetitively on the wooden slat of the crate. A stilted salute was followed by a belittling gesture.
"A soldier, small. Mechanical, a robot. Little mechanical soldier. Toy, a toy soldier?"
RD agreed, thumping his fist on his own chest.
"You were a toy soldier?" Bodie tried to make sense of the strange claim.
Incensed with the memory, RD rose to his full height. He crossed his wrists before him, indicating shackles.
"Restraint. Rape?" He finally named his fear.
No, not that, no.
"You're not lying to me?"
No, repeatedly, emphatic, insistent. The wrists were crossed again. Hands gestured to his belt, then palm slapped a stinging blow against fist. And again the mocking salute.
"Restraint, punishment, obedience. More restraint, punishment."
The oxygen went all out of Bodie suddenly. He listened to a strange buzzing in his ears. Exhaustion was upon him, like a physical weight borne across his shoulders. He forgot to breathe, it seemed.
When next he became aware, he was lying flat out, dimly sensing distant waves bearing him relentlessly forward. Desperately hoping for escape from something, he knew not what, he forced his eyes open.
Glinting ice, green faceted, upon which he had run aground. He stared into the freezing zone. How could something that glacially cold and hard be a comfort to him? But it was that, and he acknowledged the existence of some sort of strange safety.
Reality returned fully when RD reached his hand down to pat his face. The odd cooing noises he made seemed to set him in the realm of the wild animals rather than with mankind, a placement Bodie welcomed at the moment. Creature comfort indeed.
In his present predicament, he considered his own species with a certain distinct abhorrence.
RD helped him to sit up, to lean against the wooden crate.
Bodie shook his head. "How could they send me to save him, that general? What were they thinking, my superiors? Ordering me to do my all, risk everything to preserve the life of something despicable like that?"
Then RD's arms were around him, holding him in an unbreakable grasp.
Bodie's head sunk wearily onto a slender, sturdy shoulder. "It's all wrong. Whatever I'd have done would have been foul, you know? No convenient 'path of righteousness' there for me to take, none."
RD drew back with a stern look, fist to chest. The message, unspoken, still rang out loud.
My deed, my responsibility.
"It was self defence, you'd every right."
The dissent to this was adamant. RD throttled the throat of an invisible enemy, his face a mask of remembered wrath. By his reckoning, it had been a crime of extreme passion.
Bodie wanted to argue against the cruelty of this judgment. It wasn't reasonable, wasn't fair. But the energy for the fight had fled, leaving him feeling spent and ill.
In a wrung out voice, he spoke again. "I've never apologised for what I've been, what I've done before this. It would be confession just for the sake of comfort. I think it would be false of me. I don't have that sort of regret, I never have had, doubt I ever will. I made my decisions at the time, and so I'll stand by them now. But maybe my chum Mammon back there was right. Maybe I have been seeking some kind of contrary virtue, balancing what has been with something I can believe just now. I've placed my loyalties right on the line. And for my reward, my commanders have put me in an impossible position."
RD stroked down his arm, lingered on the surface of his wilted fist a moment, before withdrawing.
"In order to be faithful to a cause, loyal to my command, I was meant to back the play of a megalomaniac. They set me in aid of a sadistic bastard, utterly untrue to his own side. But worse than all that, he was chief destroyer of a grand vast piece of paradise. All the while knowing full well, it was mostly to the profit of the oil companies, the moneyed interests, the politicians and power brokers. And for them, I was to aid in the destruction of maybe the only thing in the universe I care about, right down to oblivion."
RD's assent was calm, measured.
"Maybe this dilemma of mine could be seen as punishment for past sins. But I don't believe that, not for a moment, not even in some dim, childish corner of my mind. This is just the way of things, no black and white, no right and wrong, all cloudy, murkish grey. I'm the perpetual soldier, 's truth, and what I can do well is march. I'll put one foot in front of the other, all right enough, I will. But now I'm damned if I'll walk anyone's road but my own."
Maybe RD would have agreed with him then.
But suddenly the thunderous sound of backing engines struck them, while the turmoil of crashing waves rendered their position tenuous.
The ship had come to a tumultuous, mysterious halt.
They found themselves dead in the water.
Title: Contrary Virtue
Author: asymphototropic [attracted toward the light but never quite arrives]
Slash or Gen: slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: yes
Disclaimer: No infringement intended, the author does not own "The Professionals"
[I've outpaced my much beleaguered editor lately, so this may prove rough reading. Everyone put on your mucking-out boots before slogging forward. Don't be surprised to see status-post posting changes later.]
Contrary Virtue
Part Eleven
"Shades of me misspent youth."
Bodie chuckled as he glanced around at the stacked dry goods in the small storage space off the galley. Here two hammocks had been slung to accommodate them, almost as if the passengers were shelved supplies.
Still they were grateful for the privacy and peace.
He pulled up a wooden crate and sat on it.
RD did likewise.
"Now then, we've a bit of free time, and you've quite a story to tell me."
RD coughed and grimaced, ruefully shaking his head.
"'S all right. I'll provide the sound effects, you'll do the gestures, and we'll go forward like mod improv theatre."
In his mind, Bodie could almost hear the replies that went with RD's eloquent hands.
"You were a cop, working in England."
Yeah.
"Locale. Hmm, a big city?"
The biggest.
"London? Got it. A plod? Or plainclothes man?"
Pounding the pavement at first, then promoted, moved up in the world.
Or down, depending on your perspective, Bodie reflected grimly. "Detective constable? Good at what you did, weren't you? Can tell that, without asking. And your specialty?"
RD mimicked mainlining.
"Drugs Squad. See, told you we'd rip right along. So, Detective Constable Ray Doyle was on a case one day, investigating something, all in the merry month of, hm, when? How long ago was it?"
The forlorn shrug set Bodie back a peg.
"Don't know? Can't remember. Ah, too bad. Got some memory problems?"
Vague assent.
"Sort of hazy on the details? Yeah, thought so. Though it seems like your memory's getting sharper, better focused lately. Uh huh. Well, we'll muddle along, won't we? So, you don't remember when exactly, but can you remember what? That last case of yours bought you a world of trouble, didn't it? Got in over your head somehow, and no one to bail you out of it."
Too bloody right. RD mimicked a large explosion, with intense heat.
"Things blew up on you, got hot. Figuratively? No? Literally, an explosion." Bodie was rather pleased. He thought he might have a knack for detective work, previously unsuspected. Or maybe RD was rubbing off on him.
He mistook his quickening pulse for eagerness.
RD scrunched his face in intense concentration. That familiar, painful clicking noise sounded in his throat. "Lab," he croaked.
"Lab, laboratory? Illegal, of course. A chem lab making street drugs? Dangerous place, no safeguards, puts the whole damned neighbourhood in jeopardy. Dare say you hated the villains, wanted to nail them hard."
The scowl of agreement was a menacing sight.
"So you were investigating a drugs lab. Before or after the explosion? What, during? Hell, mate, you were right into the flaming brimstone, weren't you?"
RD indicated choking, then a blow to the head.
"Smoke inhalation. You were injured, knocked unconscious. Let me guess. When you came to, you found you weren't in Casualty."
Not by a damn long shot.
"Dropped down for the count. Woke in the hands of scoundrels." Bodie felt the first acidic twinge of discomfort in the pit of his gut. He ignored it, turned straight back to pursuing the tale.
Again came the gesture for mainlining. RD indicated the place on his inner arm that bore scarred needle tracks.
Bodie felt a sudden unexplained sweat break out on his forehead. Impatiently he wiped it away, clearing the tangled hair out of his vision. "They were shooting you up with something vile. Yeah, I saw them at it, the slimy cruds. Seemed to me the effects were like scopolamine, but longer lasting. Some kind of truth serum, maybe something new I've never heard of? Were they sweating you for information?"
A simple negative. "Ex- exp- eh-" RD gasped to a rasping halt.
Bodie felt sick. "Fuck, no." His head ached, his pulse throbbed. "The bastards. Experimenting on humans? On you?" He felt the urge to attack surge up in him, an irrational impulse to assault, directed against some unseen enemy. There was an intense need to bite, scratch, maim.
Anger evolved rapidly to rage. Too late, it came to him. All in the effort to discover and aid, he had gotten close, then closer, merged, joined wholly. It had gone beyond empathy, he was inextricably entangled, couldn't escape.
He was trapped.
He tried to stand. Shook his head. "Damn the bastards to hell." The soldier's response to imminent threat, a classic berserker rage was upon him, but with no enemy in sight.
His heart pounded ruthlessly in his ribcage, the resultant pulse painful against his skull. He staggered a step, worried he might fall.
Then there were strong hands gripping his arms, steadying him. A sort of crooning, humming sound came to him, an effort to soothe.
Bodie sucked in a deep breath, then another, deeper. When his voice returned he muttered, "'S okay. I'm all right." He sank down again. "We can carry on."
RD refused.
"I tell you, I'm all right now. Just got caught up in the moment."
RD's next head shake was more emphatic, accompanied by a gentling rub along Bodie's arm.
"Sorry, I'm sorry. Seen too little action lately. Sometimes, I've just got to strike at something, take down some target that needs it. I get so's I crave an act of carefully calculated, erm, destruction."
He laughed at his own conclusion.
RD tilted his head, nodded, quirked a small smile. He reached forward and patted the back of Bodie's hand.
"But seriously, mate," Bodie massaged his pounding head, rubbed at his eyes. "I really need to know the rest. The closer we get to zero hour, the more details I've got to have. We are going to hit the home turf running. The villains won't see the strike coming 'til it's too late for retaliation."
RD bit his lower lip, contemplating the probability of that scenario. It was an expression of grave doubt.
But having arrived at this point, Bodie wouldn't call a halt. "Come on. You've got to tell me the rest. You never came to Africa willingly? No, of course not. They had to take you out of the picture, one way or another. Transported against your will. It was an old-fashioned spot of shanghai, wasn't it?"
RD pulled an illusory wallet from his pocket, counting out invisible cash.
Bodie clenched his jaw against another stream of expletives. "Kidnapped, bought and sold. Went from bad to worse, with no hope of escape here. Our generalissimo must have made that London lot seem like piddling amateurs by contrast."
Green eyes glinted, arctic, furious.
"What did he want with you?" Bodie thought he knew already, and shuddered away from the knowledge.
The answer, when it came, knocked him sideways with surprise.
RD used his fingers to indicate a tedious marching motion, clicking repetitively on the wooden slat of the crate. A stilted salute was followed by a belittling gesture.
"A soldier, small. Mechanical, a robot. Little mechanical soldier. Toy, a toy soldier?"
RD agreed, thumping his fist on his own chest.
"You were a toy soldier?" Bodie tried to make sense of the strange claim.
Incensed with the memory, RD rose to his full height. He crossed his wrists before him, indicating shackles.
"Restraint. Rape?" He finally named his fear.
No, not that, no.
"You're not lying to me?"
No, repeatedly, emphatic, insistent. The wrists were crossed again. Hands gestured to his belt, then palm slapped a stinging blow against fist. And again the mocking salute.
"Restraint, punishment, obedience. More restraint, punishment."
The oxygen went all out of Bodie suddenly. He listened to a strange buzzing in his ears. Exhaustion was upon him, like a physical weight borne across his shoulders. He forgot to breathe, it seemed.
When next he became aware, he was lying flat out, dimly sensing distant waves bearing him relentlessly forward. Desperately hoping for escape from something, he knew not what, he forced his eyes open.
Glinting ice, green faceted, upon which he had run aground. He stared into the freezing zone. How could something that glacially cold and hard be a comfort to him? But it was that, and he acknowledged the existence of some sort of strange safety.
Reality returned fully when RD reached his hand down to pat his face. The odd cooing noises he made seemed to set him in the realm of the wild animals rather than with mankind, a placement Bodie welcomed at the moment. Creature comfort indeed.
In his present predicament, he considered his own species with a certain distinct abhorrence.
RD helped him to sit up, to lean against the wooden crate.
Bodie shook his head. "How could they send me to save him, that general? What were they thinking, my superiors? Ordering me to do my all, risk everything to preserve the life of something despicable like that?"
Then RD's arms were around him, holding him in an unbreakable grasp.
Bodie's head sunk wearily onto a slender, sturdy shoulder. "It's all wrong. Whatever I'd have done would have been foul, you know? No convenient 'path of righteousness' there for me to take, none."
RD drew back with a stern look, fist to chest. The message, unspoken, still rang out loud.
My deed, my responsibility.
"It was self defence, you'd every right."
The dissent to this was adamant. RD throttled the throat of an invisible enemy, his face a mask of remembered wrath. By his reckoning, it had been a crime of extreme passion.
Bodie wanted to argue against the cruelty of this judgment. It wasn't reasonable, wasn't fair. But the energy for the fight had fled, leaving him feeling spent and ill.
In a wrung out voice, he spoke again. "I've never apologised for what I've been, what I've done before this. It would be confession just for the sake of comfort. I think it would be false of me. I don't have that sort of regret, I never have had, doubt I ever will. I made my decisions at the time, and so I'll stand by them now. But maybe my chum Mammon back there was right. Maybe I have been seeking some kind of contrary virtue, balancing what has been with something I can believe just now. I've placed my loyalties right on the line. And for my reward, my commanders have put me in an impossible position."
RD stroked down his arm, lingered on the surface of his wilted fist a moment, before withdrawing.
"In order to be faithful to a cause, loyal to my command, I was meant to back the play of a megalomaniac. They set me in aid of a sadistic bastard, utterly untrue to his own side. But worse than all that, he was chief destroyer of a grand vast piece of paradise. All the while knowing full well, it was mostly to the profit of the oil companies, the moneyed interests, the politicians and power brokers. And for them, I was to aid in the destruction of maybe the only thing in the universe I care about, right down to oblivion."
RD's assent was calm, measured.
"Maybe this dilemma of mine could be seen as punishment for past sins. But I don't believe that, not for a moment, not even in some dim, childish corner of my mind. This is just the way of things, no black and white, no right and wrong, all cloudy, murkish grey. I'm the perpetual soldier, 's truth, and what I can do well is march. I'll put one foot in front of the other, all right enough, I will. But now I'm damned if I'll walk anyone's road but my own."
Maybe RD would have agreed with him then.
But suddenly the thunderous sound of backing engines struck them, while the turmoil of crashing waves rendered their position tenuous.
The ship had come to a tumultuous, mysterious halt.
They found themselves dead in the water.
Title: Contrary Virtue
Author: asymphototropic [attracted toward the light but never quite arrives]
Slash or Gen: slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: yes
Disclaimer: No infringement intended, the author does not own "The Professionals"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 04:59 pm (UTC)And a cliffhanger! That's mean. It's going to be quite the wait for the next installment in this saga. I'm beginning to see how the threads tie together, but I'm not sure yet where the resolution will be. I wonder if Cowley exists in this universe and what he's doing. Bodie needs a commander and a sense of purpose.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 07:44 pm (UTC)And lest anyone object to Bodie's swoon: it is a physiological fact, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. This explains all those lovely, muscular GI joes fainting while waiting in line for immunization. Tense situation, fight or flight response, neither is appropriate so they stand patiently, epinephrine causes increased heart rate and dilation of blood vessels that feed all those lovely great skeletal muscles, blood rushes away from the brain, they neither fight nor flee, and so, they pass out.
Which gives the short, skinny blokes a chance to scoff for a change.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 07:53 pm (UTC)But yeah, big guys aren't nearly as tough as they want us to think they are.
OTOH, if you're rewriting this, you could maybe, somehow, work in a bit of what you just told me. Bodie's got to know it as well. :-)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 05:52 pm (UTC)(I wouldn't dare really, not with its being Haldane's Rabbit and all, but I like to think even she would agree with any attempt to "persuade" you).
::sits down to wait::
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 07:33 pm (UTC)In which case, I am indeed terrified by your threat, since I wish neither to be bitten nor drawn into philosophical debate.
[Writes more fiction as hastily as possible.]
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 07:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 07:55 pm (UTC)Well, I promised a return to a more canon universe, so, erm, how about a chase scene?
Yeah, with a hybrid Ford Capri, fitted with pontoons, that's it. [well Capri is an island, after all....]
Okay, file that for a later fic that includes the manatee assault team, and erm rabid sabre tooth bunnies [see above reply].
Ought to toss in some scantily clad babes on a beach. But, erm, dun wanna offend the faithful readers.
Aww, give me a coupla minutes. I'll think of sumfink.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 07:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 08:06 pm (UTC)Pull up a life preserver and rest yourself a while.
[Has anyone brought anything to drink? getting a little bored with bottled water, here. A little orange squash would be nice.]
Thanks for the kind reply.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 08:34 pm (UTC)Write more. I have no rabbits to threaten you with, but I'll think of something dire. I promise.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-18 02:09 am (UTC)Bodie seems eminently pettable, in my opinion. And RD is just the man for the job.
[let's all pounce on ancastar and tickle her. hee hee hee]
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 10:43 pm (UTC)I love the way you've brought them closer together in this, the way it's now them against the world. And it seems like they're in a spot of real bother ... ooh, can't wait!
no subject
Date: 2007-03-18 02:13 am (UTC)I love a spot of bovver, and can tell you do too.
Yay. Now on to something completely bothersome.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-17 11:02 pm (UTC)And you leave us with more questions and wanting more! (Personally, I would be v. jealous of any scantily clad babes that encounter Bodie and RD! *g*)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-18 02:20 am (UTC)Left with more questions. Like what's at the base of the cliff [hanger]? Let's hope tis something soft, like water. [hint, hint] Just in case we let go of the cliff suddenly.
I don't think I was seriously contemplating scantily clad babes, just teasing. Though, if we're all going to be jealous of them, it would be a nod at that pesky sin, envy.
But, nurp, I was assigned hubris, so we're off the hook. [grateful sigh]
no subject
Date: 2007-03-18 05:44 am (UTC)This is just the way of things, no black and white, no right and wrong, all cloudy, murkish grey. I'm the perpetual soldier, 's truth, and what I can do well is march. I'll put one foot in front of the other, all right enough, I will. But now I'm damned if I'll walk anyone's road but my own."
And yes, I'm curious, too - is Cowley going to turn up at some point??
no subject
Date: 2007-03-18 07:09 pm (UTC)[Will resolve the Cowley issue before I close the story.]
no subject
Date: 2007-03-18 08:06 am (UTC)With all this talk about experiments and drugs makes me think maybe RD was being programmed to kill someone back in England, like the PM or something...
Can't wait to see what happens next :)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-18 07:20 pm (UTC)I'm bad that way. [nudge, wink]
What happens next, posted just as soon as I can tidy it up for public consumption, eh?
Glad you're still with us, and we didn't lose you back at the last port of departure.