Discovered in Temptation
Mar. 19th, 2007 04:43 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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discoveredinaljSwallowed by a monstrous night.
Contrary Virtue
Part Twelve
"Devil take him."
In the fading light of sunset, they found themselves clinging to the starboard guardrail, leaning over for a clear view of the sinister looking boats that had overtaken the ship, enforcing the current halt. The delay had all the hallmarks of some government squadron wielding coastal authority to search and seize.
Well, they couldn't say they hadn't been warned.
"I know that bastard, standing there in the middle, the wicked looking one holding the Dragunov SVD like it's his bloody lover. Met him a while ago around Kinshasa Prison. He's a damned long shot from his former hunting grounds. But what's more to the point and far worse, he knows me bloody well, knows my real name. And here I stand bearing a fiddled passport. Hurry, now, every second counts."
He dragged RD away and they ran, straight back to the storage space for their gear.
In the comparative quiet of that corner, Bodie confronted his mate. He grabbed him by both shoulders and clutched with a vise-like grip.
"Listen to me and listen well. I've got no choice in this, which makes things simple for me. I've got to run for me life now. It'll be a dangerous stunt, but staying would be lethal."
RD gulped convulsively, then nodded.
"Now you, love, are another matter. You have a choice to make, and I'm truly sorry to say, it'll be a damned difficult one. Staying for you may be less dangerous than running, a calculated risk, savvy? Those SOBs may be after you, me, both of us, or neither, and who's to say which it is? If they aren't after you, staying here, biding your time onboard will be your best bet by far. But if they are after you, or at least have heard your description, your life in their hands int worth shite. So now you've to choose."
There was absolutely no hesitation as RD placed his palm squarely over Bodie's pounding heart.
Bodie couldn't suppress his grin, but it instantly fled. He examined his mate sternly.
"Ray Doyle, look me in the eyes. Are you a strong swimmer?"
RD nodded.
"Do you remember clearly? Are you certain? I don't mean triathlon quality, but you can do serial laps without having to stop?"
Again, no hesitation.
"Right then, we're off. And the only thing we've got going for us is our bloody balls, and the time of day."
They fled before the approach of their enemies, away from the boarding party, the nervously gathering crew and passengers, to the opposite side of the ship, down to the lowest level, to their tiny perch overlooking the water line.
Back to the small rubber raft.
Twilight was settling, with the last beams of sun burning the evening clouds in a conflagration of vermilion and gold.
They fastened their boots and packs to the raft, and dropped it over the side on a tow line, swiftly but silently.
"Mind what I say now. I'll lower you on this rope a goodish distance, and you've only to keep your balance and hold hard onto the slip end for that. Then you're to start swinging, and I'll aid it by guiding the rope. Now when you reach as far as you're able to arc away from ship's side, let loose of the slip end, slide free and drop into the water. Understand?"
RD was clear eyed in acknowledgment.
"When you hit, it'll be hard, painful like wet cement, and comparatively cold. You've got to steel yourself for it, and the instant you hit, kick straight up for the surface like something bad is biting at your toes. Soon as you break, stroke for the raft, get a good grip on it, but don't climb aboard yet."
He looked for hesitation in the other's eyes but detected nothing save resolve.
"And whatever else, don't let yourself get dragged under the ship."
He got him rigged on the lowering rope and helped him over, clinging to the wrong side of the rail, when on an impulse, Bodie leaned close and kissed RD hard on the mouth. "Don't even imagine screwing this up, clear?"
Then RD was away, hanging precariously, disappearing fast in the evening gloom, as Bodie payed out the line. He felt the impetus, the pendulum swing of the suspended body, counted the seconds of a breathless pause, and then heard the sound of the splash.
Without allowing a single moment to acknowledge his worry for his mate's success, Bodie grabbed his own lines and rappelled hastily down the vessel's side. There was scarcely enough light left to judge his distance, so he took his best guess, swung out in a wide sweep, kicked hard away and plummeted.
The shock of the impact was everything he'd anticipated, but he was working on instinct now, responding to a do-or-die command. The instant he could straighten, he pulled for the surface. Breaking into the atmosphere, he sucked in enough oxygen, feeling the intense sting of salt in his eyes and nose. Three seconds to orient, there was the black bulk of the ship, there was the lighter shadow of the dinghy, and he swam for safety with all his strength.
The wave action around the stalled ship was rough. Slamming into the raft's side was much easier than getting a hold on the tow line. Even after he'd gotten a slippery grip, he nearly lost it again when the lower half of his body was pulled abruptly away by the water's wash.
And then, despite his resolve, he panicked when he couldn't see RD.
Torn between fear of detection and fear of losing his mate, he made his decision and called out. Then he started hand over hand, around the port edge of the boat. He made it to the end, and clinging there with his legs washed forcefully beneath, he twisted his head around to catch a look abaft.
There, clutching at a trailing frayed end of line secured to who-knew-what, was RD, sporting a bloody nose and hand, but grinning at Bodie for all he was worth.
Now Bodie had two considerations. He didn't want to discover which denizens of the deep would be attracted soonest to blood in the water. But he wanted to wait for more intense darkness to cover their departure. And sitting upright in the boat might be an invitation to shoot at their profiles first and ask questions later.
"Hang on. Don't try any moves, awright?"
There was a gunwale line meant for clambering swimmers to grasp. Bodie reached as high over the side as he could slap, gave a hard kick to rise out of the water, pushing up with steel coiled muscles, caught the rope in one fist and powered his way onboard.
Instantly he flattened against the bottom, snaked a sinuous path astern, and peered over the aft end to where RD clung obediently.
"I'm pulling you in. Don't let go until I've a good grip on you and I tip you the nod."
Risking a tumble back into the drink, Bodie leaned far over the side and hauled on the line, gradually drawing the body closer to the boat. When RD was finally within a hard reach, Bodie pulled first on the long sodden curls, then the collar and back of the shirt, and finally the belt around his waist. With more splashing noise than was strictly safe, Bodie managed to land RD flopping onboard, like a grand catch of the day.
They collapsed on the bottom, curled up together in a tangle of salted limbs and sopping garments, gratefully sucking in huge chests-worth of fresh evening air.
The darkness dropped thicker now, and remaining seemed riskier to Bodie than chancing their luck adrift.
Fortunately for them, the ship was making a scant way, to keep off the shore's shelf. They only had to cut the line and wash silently astern.
With a frantically beating heart, Bodie wielded his glittering blade, reaching for the line that should represent the safety of their ship, but which now only bound them to a threat of torture and death.
He severed the cord.
Then he folded himself back down breathlessly to await their fate. There were so many different ways this move could kill them. They could capsize in the roughness of the ship's wake. They could drift clear, but directly into the midst of their enemy's boats. They could deem themselves at last safe from detection, only to sit up later and then be shot. They could be caught up in the flood's current, but be flung ashore into crushing rocks. Or they could drift clear of all difficulties, catch an unfavourable current, surf out to sea and be swallowed alive by the Atlantic.
At the moment, they couldn't do a thing to mend any of that, so Bodie hugged as close as molecularly possible to RD without actually crawling inside of him. Lying there, they rose and fell over the rhythmic, dangerous caress of the vast water. They stared into a firmament that alternately featured the dark shadows of swirling torn storm clouds and the brilliant light of eons-distant, already-extinct stars.
Then they slept.
When they abruptly woke, the sky was uniformly shrouded in clouds.
Bodie risked a peek over the gunwale, to discover they were surrounded.
Surrounded by waves, no view of the ship, no glimpse of their enemy. Well, at least it was safe to sit up.
Which they both did.
"You okay? Crashed into the dinghy's side, trying to climb aboard?" His mate's bloody nose had washed clean during their earlier struggle to safety. Bodie examined RD's hand, where, grabbing for purchase on the slippery polymer surface, he had torn off a fingernail. "Bet the salt in that stings like hell. But at least there's no need to clean it."
They grinned ruefully at each other.
"Maybe I didn't sufficiently emphasise the hazards of that latest enterprise of ours. But we didn't have a spare second for debate. And regardless of that, I rather got the impression you were sticking like barnacles to me."
RD's nod was cheerful.
Chuckling, Bodie buried his face in the soggy mess that curled on the join of neck and shoulder. "You really are something else, you know that?"
After a comfortable pause, he spoke again.
"This is a bit of a strange position for us. We were between a Rock and a Soft Place. That vicious lot of rabid scavengers we've just escaped were denizens of the Rock. But our leaping-out was much closer to the Soft Place. Those awl-arses were well outside their own waters, rendering their assault nothing better than government-sponsored piracy. Though doubtless the topic of claimed national waters is hotly argued hereabouts. The Rock slime are hard at their own dirty civil war. Trust me, winding up at their mercy would have been far worse for us than slitting our throats to be cleanly done."
All the while, Bodie was running his hands over his mate. Somewhere in his logic, he told himself he was surveying for injuries. And it was too dark to see them, hence the physical approach.
Every once in a while, RD shivered transiently away from his touch. But Bodie sensed it was a ticklish reflex rather than any wish for avoidance, since each bit of shying was inevitably followed by relaxation back deeper into his caress.
Bodie unbuttoned the placket at RD's throat. "We should get out of these soggy togs." He helped his mate out of the clinging shirt.
"See, what I'm hoping is that the bight's current is in our favour, that it'll wash us ashore at the Soft Place, which is a fairly broad target of coastline and easily hit. When visibility is better, we can help ourselves by dint of striving, plying the oars a stint. And a lovely place to arrive it will be, too, if we manage it. A land dripping with milk and honey, as gathered and proffered by sweet, doe eyed girls in cocoa butter and bikinis."
Bodie stripped his own shirt over his head and dropped it carelessly. In the dark, he and RD were eyeing the mysterious hints of each other's anatomy. Bodie reached to do battle with his mate's flies, which wet, were stubbornly resistant, and succumbed to unfastening only after a struggle.
"Mind you, if we miss that target, we're into a Hard Place again, the mainland of the aforementioned Rock slime. And the other, and only slightly less grim possibility is our being swept fully out to sea. So now it behooves us to make merry, for tomorrow will drop upon us in due and potentially deadly course."
Bodie grinned, showing the beautiful gleam of his teeth.
RD rose up on his knees to shed his jeans and pants. His damp skin was an enticing gloss of vague highlights, blending with the close glimpse of wave crests which served as backdrop.
Bodie discarded the remainder of his own clothes.
RD seemed a fragmented half of Bodie. They were two broken shards of flotsam, cast adrift only to crash again together hard.
Bodie extended his hand to stroke salty flesh.
The newly thrashing texture of the nearest waves joined the rhythm of his heart slamming against his thorax.
Fascinated, RD watched the watery turmoil. There was an enormous life force rising all around them. His own erection seemed a continuation of vast, effortless creature striving.
"Heaven and hell!" Bodie grappled RD's body securely against his own, willing that any further life would be together, that even death couldn't pry his fingers loose from the harbour of his soul.
Staring over each other's shoulders, they were enthralled with the surrounding view, menacingly close, looming, encircling them with power that could capsize them with a mere careless tail flick.
Bodie fisted RD's solid cock against his own, pummelling them fiercely together. As the torment of this delight caught at him, he counted the dorsal fins visible on his side of the raft.
RD gasped roughly at a similar view opposite.
"Basking sharks," Bodie muttered into a delectable ear, immediately before thrusting his tongue into it. "A whole fucking school of the monsters."
RD struggled to enter his entire being into Bodie's body with fiery passion.
"You'll never come closer to Leviathan and all its spawn than this. Biblical doesn't begin to touch it, mate."
His hard hand lavished strokes on their combined sensory overload.
"Ten or so to port, the same again to starboard, with a few more fore and aft, at about twenty feet length per beast. I reckon tha's about a full tenth of a mile of solid muscle surrounding us. Damn, yes, oh fuck us both to the sweet bitter end."
He crested, they both did, rising over the surfeit of vast pleasure which consumed them.
Meanwhile the huge creatures of their shared night opened wide their jaws, the better to devour the ocean.
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"
Contrary Virtue
Part Twelve
"Devil take him."
In the fading light of sunset, they found themselves clinging to the starboard guardrail, leaning over for a clear view of the sinister looking boats that had overtaken the ship, enforcing the current halt. The delay had all the hallmarks of some government squadron wielding coastal authority to search and seize.
Well, they couldn't say they hadn't been warned.
"I know that bastard, standing there in the middle, the wicked looking one holding the Dragunov SVD like it's his bloody lover. Met him a while ago around Kinshasa Prison. He's a damned long shot from his former hunting grounds. But what's more to the point and far worse, he knows me bloody well, knows my real name. And here I stand bearing a fiddled passport. Hurry, now, every second counts."
He dragged RD away and they ran, straight back to the storage space for their gear.
In the comparative quiet of that corner, Bodie confronted his mate. He grabbed him by both shoulders and clutched with a vise-like grip.
"Listen to me and listen well. I've got no choice in this, which makes things simple for me. I've got to run for me life now. It'll be a dangerous stunt, but staying would be lethal."
RD gulped convulsively, then nodded.
"Now you, love, are another matter. You have a choice to make, and I'm truly sorry to say, it'll be a damned difficult one. Staying for you may be less dangerous than running, a calculated risk, savvy? Those SOBs may be after you, me, both of us, or neither, and who's to say which it is? If they aren't after you, staying here, biding your time onboard will be your best bet by far. But if they are after you, or at least have heard your description, your life in their hands int worth shite. So now you've to choose."
There was absolutely no hesitation as RD placed his palm squarely over Bodie's pounding heart.
Bodie couldn't suppress his grin, but it instantly fled. He examined his mate sternly.
"Ray Doyle, look me in the eyes. Are you a strong swimmer?"
RD nodded.
"Do you remember clearly? Are you certain? I don't mean triathlon quality, but you can do serial laps without having to stop?"
Again, no hesitation.
"Right then, we're off. And the only thing we've got going for us is our bloody balls, and the time of day."
They fled before the approach of their enemies, away from the boarding party, the nervously gathering crew and passengers, to the opposite side of the ship, down to the lowest level, to their tiny perch overlooking the water line.
Back to the small rubber raft.
Twilight was settling, with the last beams of sun burning the evening clouds in a conflagration of vermilion and gold.
They fastened their boots and packs to the raft, and dropped it over the side on a tow line, swiftly but silently.
"Mind what I say now. I'll lower you on this rope a goodish distance, and you've only to keep your balance and hold hard onto the slip end for that. Then you're to start swinging, and I'll aid it by guiding the rope. Now when you reach as far as you're able to arc away from ship's side, let loose of the slip end, slide free and drop into the water. Understand?"
RD was clear eyed in acknowledgment.
"When you hit, it'll be hard, painful like wet cement, and comparatively cold. You've got to steel yourself for it, and the instant you hit, kick straight up for the surface like something bad is biting at your toes. Soon as you break, stroke for the raft, get a good grip on it, but don't climb aboard yet."
He looked for hesitation in the other's eyes but detected nothing save resolve.
"And whatever else, don't let yourself get dragged under the ship."
He got him rigged on the lowering rope and helped him over, clinging to the wrong side of the rail, when on an impulse, Bodie leaned close and kissed RD hard on the mouth. "Don't even imagine screwing this up, clear?"
Then RD was away, hanging precariously, disappearing fast in the evening gloom, as Bodie payed out the line. He felt the impetus, the pendulum swing of the suspended body, counted the seconds of a breathless pause, and then heard the sound of the splash.
Without allowing a single moment to acknowledge his worry for his mate's success, Bodie grabbed his own lines and rappelled hastily down the vessel's side. There was scarcely enough light left to judge his distance, so he took his best guess, swung out in a wide sweep, kicked hard away and plummeted.
The shock of the impact was everything he'd anticipated, but he was working on instinct now, responding to a do-or-die command. The instant he could straighten, he pulled for the surface. Breaking into the atmosphere, he sucked in enough oxygen, feeling the intense sting of salt in his eyes and nose. Three seconds to orient, there was the black bulk of the ship, there was the lighter shadow of the dinghy, and he swam for safety with all his strength.
The wave action around the stalled ship was rough. Slamming into the raft's side was much easier than getting a hold on the tow line. Even after he'd gotten a slippery grip, he nearly lost it again when the lower half of his body was pulled abruptly away by the water's wash.
And then, despite his resolve, he panicked when he couldn't see RD.
Torn between fear of detection and fear of losing his mate, he made his decision and called out. Then he started hand over hand, around the port edge of the boat. He made it to the end, and clinging there with his legs washed forcefully beneath, he twisted his head around to catch a look abaft.
There, clutching at a trailing frayed end of line secured to who-knew-what, was RD, sporting a bloody nose and hand, but grinning at Bodie for all he was worth.
Now Bodie had two considerations. He didn't want to discover which denizens of the deep would be attracted soonest to blood in the water. But he wanted to wait for more intense darkness to cover their departure. And sitting upright in the boat might be an invitation to shoot at their profiles first and ask questions later.
"Hang on. Don't try any moves, awright?"
There was a gunwale line meant for clambering swimmers to grasp. Bodie reached as high over the side as he could slap, gave a hard kick to rise out of the water, pushing up with steel coiled muscles, caught the rope in one fist and powered his way onboard.
Instantly he flattened against the bottom, snaked a sinuous path astern, and peered over the aft end to where RD clung obediently.
"I'm pulling you in. Don't let go until I've a good grip on you and I tip you the nod."
Risking a tumble back into the drink, Bodie leaned far over the side and hauled on the line, gradually drawing the body closer to the boat. When RD was finally within a hard reach, Bodie pulled first on the long sodden curls, then the collar and back of the shirt, and finally the belt around his waist. With more splashing noise than was strictly safe, Bodie managed to land RD flopping onboard, like a grand catch of the day.
They collapsed on the bottom, curled up together in a tangle of salted limbs and sopping garments, gratefully sucking in huge chests-worth of fresh evening air.
The darkness dropped thicker now, and remaining seemed riskier to Bodie than chancing their luck adrift.
Fortunately for them, the ship was making a scant way, to keep off the shore's shelf. They only had to cut the line and wash silently astern.
With a frantically beating heart, Bodie wielded his glittering blade, reaching for the line that should represent the safety of their ship, but which now only bound them to a threat of torture and death.
He severed the cord.
Then he folded himself back down breathlessly to await their fate. There were so many different ways this move could kill them. They could capsize in the roughness of the ship's wake. They could drift clear, but directly into the midst of their enemy's boats. They could deem themselves at last safe from detection, only to sit up later and then be shot. They could be caught up in the flood's current, but be flung ashore into crushing rocks. Or they could drift clear of all difficulties, catch an unfavourable current, surf out to sea and be swallowed alive by the Atlantic.
At the moment, they couldn't do a thing to mend any of that, so Bodie hugged as close as molecularly possible to RD without actually crawling inside of him. Lying there, they rose and fell over the rhythmic, dangerous caress of the vast water. They stared into a firmament that alternately featured the dark shadows of swirling torn storm clouds and the brilliant light of eons-distant, already-extinct stars.
Then they slept.
When they abruptly woke, the sky was uniformly shrouded in clouds.
Bodie risked a peek over the gunwale, to discover they were surrounded.
Surrounded by waves, no view of the ship, no glimpse of their enemy. Well, at least it was safe to sit up.
Which they both did.
"You okay? Crashed into the dinghy's side, trying to climb aboard?" His mate's bloody nose had washed clean during their earlier struggle to safety. Bodie examined RD's hand, where, grabbing for purchase on the slippery polymer surface, he had torn off a fingernail. "Bet the salt in that stings like hell. But at least there's no need to clean it."
They grinned ruefully at each other.
"Maybe I didn't sufficiently emphasise the hazards of that latest enterprise of ours. But we didn't have a spare second for debate. And regardless of that, I rather got the impression you were sticking like barnacles to me."
RD's nod was cheerful.
Chuckling, Bodie buried his face in the soggy mess that curled on the join of neck and shoulder. "You really are something else, you know that?"
After a comfortable pause, he spoke again.
"This is a bit of a strange position for us. We were between a Rock and a Soft Place. That vicious lot of rabid scavengers we've just escaped were denizens of the Rock. But our leaping-out was much closer to the Soft Place. Those awl-arses were well outside their own waters, rendering their assault nothing better than government-sponsored piracy. Though doubtless the topic of claimed national waters is hotly argued hereabouts. The Rock slime are hard at their own dirty civil war. Trust me, winding up at their mercy would have been far worse for us than slitting our throats to be cleanly done."
All the while, Bodie was running his hands over his mate. Somewhere in his logic, he told himself he was surveying for injuries. And it was too dark to see them, hence the physical approach.
Every once in a while, RD shivered transiently away from his touch. But Bodie sensed it was a ticklish reflex rather than any wish for avoidance, since each bit of shying was inevitably followed by relaxation back deeper into his caress.
Bodie unbuttoned the placket at RD's throat. "We should get out of these soggy togs." He helped his mate out of the clinging shirt.
"See, what I'm hoping is that the bight's current is in our favour, that it'll wash us ashore at the Soft Place, which is a fairly broad target of coastline and easily hit. When visibility is better, we can help ourselves by dint of striving, plying the oars a stint. And a lovely place to arrive it will be, too, if we manage it. A land dripping with milk and honey, as gathered and proffered by sweet, doe eyed girls in cocoa butter and bikinis."
Bodie stripped his own shirt over his head and dropped it carelessly. In the dark, he and RD were eyeing the mysterious hints of each other's anatomy. Bodie reached to do battle with his mate's flies, which wet, were stubbornly resistant, and succumbed to unfastening only after a struggle.
"Mind you, if we miss that target, we're into a Hard Place again, the mainland of the aforementioned Rock slime. And the other, and only slightly less grim possibility is our being swept fully out to sea. So now it behooves us to make merry, for tomorrow will drop upon us in due and potentially deadly course."
Bodie grinned, showing the beautiful gleam of his teeth.
RD rose up on his knees to shed his jeans and pants. His damp skin was an enticing gloss of vague highlights, blending with the close glimpse of wave crests which served as backdrop.
Bodie discarded the remainder of his own clothes.
RD seemed a fragmented half of Bodie. They were two broken shards of flotsam, cast adrift only to crash again together hard.
Bodie extended his hand to stroke salty flesh.
The newly thrashing texture of the nearest waves joined the rhythm of his heart slamming against his thorax.
Fascinated, RD watched the watery turmoil. There was an enormous life force rising all around them. His own erection seemed a continuation of vast, effortless creature striving.
"Heaven and hell!" Bodie grappled RD's body securely against his own, willing that any further life would be together, that even death couldn't pry his fingers loose from the harbour of his soul.
Staring over each other's shoulders, they were enthralled with the surrounding view, menacingly close, looming, encircling them with power that could capsize them with a mere careless tail flick.
Bodie fisted RD's solid cock against his own, pummelling them fiercely together. As the torment of this delight caught at him, he counted the dorsal fins visible on his side of the raft.
RD gasped roughly at a similar view opposite.
"Basking sharks," Bodie muttered into a delectable ear, immediately before thrusting his tongue into it. "A whole fucking school of the monsters."
RD struggled to enter his entire being into Bodie's body with fiery passion.
"You'll never come closer to Leviathan and all its spawn than this. Biblical doesn't begin to touch it, mate."
His hard hand lavished strokes on their combined sensory overload.
"Ten or so to port, the same again to starboard, with a few more fore and aft, at about twenty feet length per beast. I reckon tha's about a full tenth of a mile of solid muscle surrounding us. Damn, yes, oh fuck us both to the sweet bitter end."
He crested, they both did, rising over the surfeit of vast pleasure which consumed them.
Meanwhile the huge creatures of their shared night opened wide their jaws, the better to devour the ocean.
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: 2007-03-19 09:56 pm (UTC)You made me laugh (in a good way) with the way they woke surrounded. That was mean, to make us wait a couple lines to learn it's only by waves. I'm also glad to read they're not far from land, because I was wondering if they were going to have to paddle across the ocean subsisting on raw fish like Orr in Catch 22. ;-)
A highly entertaining chapter. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 02:16 pm (UTC)Between naval matters and mountaineering maneuvers, weaponry and geography, this episode was a bit nerve wracking to write.
And I'm acutely aware of having at least two, possibly more, warrior women in the readers' collect. Expert opinions abound.
So I'm pleased this 'passed muster' with you. [salute exchange, followed by hugs]
Especially pleased you enjoyed the 'surrounded' ambush. Fun being sneaky.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 04:50 pm (UTC)And warrior woman? *blushes* Not me. I was just a sneaky little kitty. When we played paintball, I hid in the bushes and shot people in the tuckus. All I ever learned to do was dig trenches, hide, and spend long periods of time in the back of a van amusing myself by listening to South American cab drivers. Watch that signal bounce! Whee!
Okay, I have to admit, the radios were fun. Besides, if you transmitted right when the guy on your roof of your van was touching the antenna, you could actually knock him off into the bushes. No that I ever *would*. Well, I certainly wouldn't do it on purpose, anyway. ;-)
(I saw one guy end up in a tree - no broken bones, either! Though he had an eye twitch that stuck around for a few hours after...)
But basically, unless it's guns or radios, I don't know much.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 11:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 02:26 pm (UTC)Now to do the basking sharks justice, they subsist on Very Small Things, using the simple method of opening wide [enormously wide] and swallowing just about everything, which is mostly plankton. I think if they swallowed Bodie and/or Doyle, their reaction would be "oooops".
On the other hand, the peril in this situation is quite real, of being capsized and squished.
Hence the adrenalin rush which the lads 'handled' in a soldierly fashion. [heh].
Thanks for the kind reply.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 03:06 pm (UTC)Actually, you should thwap my nose and withhold my biscuit. I tossed in the bit about blood in the water and Bodie's fear of what might emerge, all on purpose to increase the anxious anticipation. You had every right to expect maneaters. And in this setting, they might well have arisen.
So there. Old dogs, eh? Me too. [curls up on the rock next to ancastar's, warming toes before the crackling fire, proffers cup of cocoa, grins.]
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 10:11 am (UTC)Yum! All very atmospheric and tantalizing. And scary denizens of the deep too. I didn't think I could be any more impressed, but each time I am *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 02:28 pm (UTC)Thanks so much the compliment.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 12:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 02:33 pm (UTC)What's next is the exciting conclusion to this story. [I hope, on both counts, since I'm out of the country any day now, and potentially out of contact with the Net for a while.]
Take care, thanks for tons of nice comments.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 03:55 pm (UTC)What, finishing it and then running away? Hmm.... *g* I hope you have a good trip!
Alas, an end had to come sometime, I suppose. Hey, when you come back you could revisit them...six months later...you know they'll be in trouble again, right?
no subject
Date: 2007-03-21 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 01:25 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 02:44 pm (UTC)But yes, I'll take good care of them to the climax and conclusion.
And delighted to discover another ichthyophile in our midst [hails the fellow shark admirer with a nod and sturdy handshake. Did you see that TV news footage a few months back, of the diver swimming placidly with a Great White Shark, while filming it? That bloke's a cousin of mine. Crazed naturalist tendencies run in the family, heh.]
no subject
Date: 2007-03-21 05:53 pm (UTC)Didn't see that footage, unfortunatly, but agree your cousin just might be ever so slightly crazed!
Just read your concluding episode, oof, sigh of relief the lads are safe and happy. And then they went home and had sex, right? A lot? *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-03-21 06:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 05:19 pm (UTC)And we got sex on the high seas - Yay!! And Bodie saying savvy? Our own Pirate of the Not Quite Caribbean.
And I loved that last line.. made me shiver.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-21 01:58 am (UTC)By the way, folks in my neighborhood have being saying 'savvy' ever since I can remember. Think some of the Disney writers maybe grew up in our woods?
I'm all for sex in interesting places, if I think the characters can actually get away with it.
Now that would be a fun fic challenge. Sex in Strange Settings. Ha.
Thanks for kind comments.