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Sep. 1st, 2005 10:39 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
catlover2x.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregTitle: The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of
CSI: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG13
Summary: Angst Lite, Fluff and Shmoop
Disclaimers: I don’t own CSI, Nick or Greg, not that I wouldn’t like to.
A/N: Dedicated to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shacky20
Thank you tofred_bear and godgaleshot. You would think I didn't know English if you read it before they got their hands on it.
The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of
Greg walked into the house he shared with Nick and sighed. The place was a mess. And he was tired, too tired to deal with all this chaos right now. But the clutter had reached critical mass, at least for him. Apparently Nick was completely blind to it and had just blithely gone off to work, leaving the sink full of dirty dishes, papers and books everywhere, and his clothes in a little heap in the corner of the bedroom.
Greg tackled the kitchen first, grumbling to himself, if he can get the dishes as far as the sink, why can’t he get them into the dishwasher? He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice, only to find it empty. He was about to blame Nick but suddenly remembered stumbling in yesterday morning and draining the carton before sleepily replacing it in the fridge rather than tossing it. He sighed as he took out the overflowing trash bag. He was no better than Nick when he was tired.
And they were both so tired. They hadn’t had sex in nearly two weeks. Two weeks! This was one of those times when Greg felt the difference in their ages keenly. He could barely understand that Nick might not want to do it every night, but two weeks? Greg had his needs and jacking off just wasn’t doing it for him. And he was too tired to jack off properly anyway.
Maybe Nick just wasn’t interested any more. He knew that after couples have been together for a while, sometimes the fire went out. He’d seen it in the faces of some of his friends. They just got bored with each other; there was nothing there to keep the passion alive. Maybe he was no longer interesting to Nick. Maybe Nick was so used to him he didn’t see him any longer. Greg started feeling even more depressed as he dealt with the papers and books in the living room.
The bathroom was a hellhole. Both he and Nick had dropped damp towels on the floor, there was hair in the sink and, jeez, when was the last time either of them had cleaned the toilet? And where had Nick been standing when he aimed in the dark while apparently still asleep? Why didn’t Nick ever clean up after himself? Why was it always him that ended up cleaning? He knew he was being unreasonable but he was in the middle of a satisfying bout of self pity and was too burned out to snap himself out of it.
He stumbled as he tried to pick up the towels and knocked his head on the towel rack. The sudden rush of adrenaline kicked his tired butt and he felt tears sting his eyelids, but he blinked them back down. The only stars in my eyes are from getting whacked on the head, he thought desperately. On top of everything, damn it, he was not going to cry. He took a deep breath and stretched his arms over his head. He winced as he felt the tug of the dry skin on his scars. With him on nights and Nick on days, and both of them pulling doubles, they hadn’t been in the same room long enough for Nick to rub the lotion on his scars and he just couldn’t reach. He started feeling even sorrier for himself.
When he got to the bedroom, he gave up in defeat. The bed was unmade and clothing was tossed everywhere. Books were lying open upside down on the floor, which he knew was him and not Nick, but, damn it, he was going to blame Nick anyway. He was too tired to start doing laundry even though they both desperately needed clean boxers. He was way too tired to straighten the bed and it was too messy to fall into.
That’s it; he would sleep on the couch. It’s not like Nick would notice. Nick probably wouldn’t make it home before Greg had to leave again anyway. And even if he did get home, he wouldn’t care where Greg slept, seeing as he didn’t want to sleep with him any more. He set his cell phone alarm and chose a CD from his collection. Something quiet, yeah. Carly Simon. The soft strains soothed him to sleep quickly.
When the alarm forced him awake, he didn’t feel any more rested. As he’d expected, Nick wasn’t home and Greg could imagine him eating breakfast with Warrick and Catherine, laughing and having a good time, while he’d been working his ass off cleaning. He showered and shaved, looked at himself in the mirror and shrugged. He didn’t put a single product in his hair. Why bother? It’s not like Nick ever looked at him any more, even when they were in the same room. The last time they were actually home together, the only time Nick kissed him was as he was leaving and even then he’d missed Greg’s mouth.
Greg dragged himself into work and was told that rather than getting a case, he had to sub in the lab. Crap. He was too tired to even curse, but he hated it when they just stuck him back in the lab especially after he’d worked so hard to become a CSI. He felt like no one took him seriously.
He saw Nick absently raise his hand in greeting as he passed by the lab. See? Nick didn’t even look at him. Nick didn’t love him anymore, he didn’t even see him. He stood motionless for a minute, clenching his hand on a defenseless pipette. Catherine and Warrick walked by and he overheard a scrap of their conversation.
“…how tired Nick is. Do you think he’s getting enough sle…”
Greg was shocked. Here he was accusing Nick of taking him for granted when he was doing the same thing. He almost ran for the locker room, where Nick was changing shoes. He paused in the doorway as Nick straightened up and leaned his head on his locker.
“Hey, Nicky,” Greg called softly.
Nick looked up and smiled. Greg kicked himself when he saw how exhausted Nick looked. The lines around his eyes were deeper than usual and he caught a little glint of grey in Nick’s hair. Where had he been when that happened?
“What’s up, G?”
“Just haven’t seen you for a while and I wanted to say hi,” Greg said. They smiled at each other from across the room. He could tell from Nick’s eyes that he wanted a hug and all his being cried out to cross to Nick’s side and hold him, but they’d agreed, no PDAs at work.
“Virtual hug,” Greg said softly.
“That’ll hold me till I get you alone,” Nick whispered. “I gotta go, Warrick’s waiting for me.”
Greg nodded, watching as Nick walked away from him, missing the familiar little bounce in his step.
Mercifully for the first time in weeks Greg only had to work a single shift. All the way home he had a song running teasingly through his head but he couldn’t remember all the lyrics. He played the CD while he changed the sheets and started a load of laundry.
Take a look around now
Change the direction
Adjust the tuning
Try a new translation
Don’t look at your man in the same old way
Take a new picture
Just because you don’t see shooting stars
Doesn’t mean it isn’t perfect
Can’t you see...
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
It’s the slow and steady fire
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
It’s your heart and soul’s desire
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
So what’s this about your best friend?
She’s got a brand new shiny boy
And they’re moving out to Malibu
To play with all his pretty toys
And you feel closed in by the same four walls
The same old conversation
With the same old guy you’ve known for years
But use your imagination
And you will see....
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
It’s the slow and steady fire
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
It’s your heart and soul’s desire
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
I’ll do it, he thought. He grabbed the CD for inspiration as he hurried to the car to do his errands.
~*~
When Nick arrived home he just wanted to sleep. He was so tired he was no longer even hungry. He missed Greg. It was hard to believe that you could see so little of someone you actually lived with. He tried to imagine what it would be like if they didn’t live together, but shook his head, pushing the thought away. That was something he hated to contemplate. Even if he never got to see him, at least Greg’s things were around the house, his scent on the sheets, his clothes taking up too much space in the closet.
Nick sighed as he opened the door, knowing he’d been slacking on his share of the housework and hoping Greg wasn’t too angry. He’d been sort of worried about it when Greg came into the locker room earlier but he hadn’t seemed pissed. Nick smiled softly when he remembered the virtual hug. It was all that had kept him going the last three hours. And God, he missed making love to Greg. It had been nearly two weeks but it felt like a year. And jacking off was just nothing compared to drowning in Greg.
Nick stopped dead in the doorway. The room was clean. There were flowers on the coffee table and lit candles. Soft music was playing and there was a big pile of cushions in front of the fireplace. There was a fire lit! Whenever they went camping Greg insisted he didn’t know how to light a fire because he was a city boy, but obviously he must have learned by watching what Nick was doing and not just perving on his ass like he’d always thought.
Greg came out from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Hi, love, want to go on a picnic?”
Suddenly very awake, Nick’s eyes lit up and he grinned, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Greg came over and kissed Nick softly, as Nick’s arms came up around him. “Let’s sit in front of the fire and have some wine.”
Greg had laid a checked tablecloth on the floor, with a baguette, cheese, paté and grapes. He sank cross-legged to the floor and handed Nick a glass of wine. They ate in comfortable silence, just looking at each other and smiling, and Greg watched the tension drain from Nick’s face. When they were finished, Greg took the food into the kitchen and put it all away, stacking the dishes in the washer as he went. He took a deep breath before heading back out.
Nick sat leaning his back against a chair, looking dreamily into the fire. When he saw Greg, he held out a hand to him.
“What did I do to deserve this?” Nick asked, pulling Greg in closer so he could relax against Nick’s shoulder.
“Nothing much, just missed you.”
“Missed you too.”
“So, can we make out?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Nick murmured as he nuzzled Greg’s neck. Greg turned in his arms and kissed him. This was a soft, gentle kiss, a getting to know you kiss. He kissed as if it was their first time, closing his eyes, drinking in the taste and feel of Nick that he’d been missing.
Nick ran a hand under Greg’s t-shirt and stroked his back. “I didn’t get a chance to put your lotion on. Is your skin dry?”
“Yeah, it’s pulling a little.”
“Why don’t you get it and I’ll put some on.”
Greg went to the bathroom for the lotion and when he came back, Nick took it from him and set it down. He pulled Greg’s t-shirt over his head and drew him closer for another slow kiss. Without breaking the kiss, he warmed some lotion in his hands and started moving them sensuously over Greg’s back. Greg squirmed in relief as the lotion eased the tightness of his scars but it was nothing compared to the relief at the desire he felt in Nick’s hands roaming over his skin.
Nick pulled Greg down to the cushions and pressed him closer, still kissing gently. When their lips parted, Greg closed his eyes to keep the tears back and said, “Nick, I thought you didn’t want me any more. I’ve been so stressed and feeling so alone…”
“I always want you, Greg. I know we’ve both been busy, but never doubt that. Even if I hardly ever get to see you at home, it makes me happy just to know you’re here. I could never do this without you.”
“Sometimes I wonder why we do this. It’s so hard sometimes, looking at what people do to each other, the different hours we work and everything. I got mad at you because you left towels on the floor but then I saw you and I knew…” Greg heard a snore and opened his eyes.
He grinned. Nick had fallen asleep, his hands still moving on Greg’s back. His head had rolled back, his mouth was open and the lines had faded from his relaxed face. Greg sighed. Guess I’m not getting lucky tonight either, he thought as he snuggled down next to Nick. Except I’m lucky everyday I have you.
“I love you, Nicky,” he whispered.
What if the prince on the horse in your fairytale
Is right here in disguise
And what if the stars you’ve been reaching so high for
Are shining in his eyes
Don’t look at yourself in the same old way
Take another picture
Shoot the stars off in your own backyard
Don’t look any further
And you will see
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of....
The song is: The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of by Carly Simon
A/N: I am not implying that Shacky20 did any of these things. In fact, she ate ice cream and no one in the story did. I just thought of her when I listened to the song. :-)
CSI: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG13
Summary: Angst Lite, Fluff and Shmoop
Disclaimers: I don’t own CSI, Nick or Greg, not that I wouldn’t like to.
A/N: Dedicated to
shacky20Thank you to
fred_bear and godgaleshot. You would think I didn't know English if you read it before they got their hands on it.The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of
Greg walked into the house he shared with Nick and sighed. The place was a mess. And he was tired, too tired to deal with all this chaos right now. But the clutter had reached critical mass, at least for him. Apparently Nick was completely blind to it and had just blithely gone off to work, leaving the sink full of dirty dishes, papers and books everywhere, and his clothes in a little heap in the corner of the bedroom.
Greg tackled the kitchen first, grumbling to himself, if he can get the dishes as far as the sink, why can’t he get them into the dishwasher? He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice, only to find it empty. He was about to blame Nick but suddenly remembered stumbling in yesterday morning and draining the carton before sleepily replacing it in the fridge rather than tossing it. He sighed as he took out the overflowing trash bag. He was no better than Nick when he was tired.
And they were both so tired. They hadn’t had sex in nearly two weeks. Two weeks! This was one of those times when Greg felt the difference in their ages keenly. He could barely understand that Nick might not want to do it every night, but two weeks? Greg had his needs and jacking off just wasn’t doing it for him. And he was too tired to jack off properly anyway.
Maybe Nick just wasn’t interested any more. He knew that after couples have been together for a while, sometimes the fire went out. He’d seen it in the faces of some of his friends. They just got bored with each other; there was nothing there to keep the passion alive. Maybe he was no longer interesting to Nick. Maybe Nick was so used to him he didn’t see him any longer. Greg started feeling even more depressed as he dealt with the papers and books in the living room.
The bathroom was a hellhole. Both he and Nick had dropped damp towels on the floor, there was hair in the sink and, jeez, when was the last time either of them had cleaned the toilet? And where had Nick been standing when he aimed in the dark while apparently still asleep? Why didn’t Nick ever clean up after himself? Why was it always him that ended up cleaning? He knew he was being unreasonable but he was in the middle of a satisfying bout of self pity and was too burned out to snap himself out of it.
He stumbled as he tried to pick up the towels and knocked his head on the towel rack. The sudden rush of adrenaline kicked his tired butt and he felt tears sting his eyelids, but he blinked them back down. The only stars in my eyes are from getting whacked on the head, he thought desperately. On top of everything, damn it, he was not going to cry. He took a deep breath and stretched his arms over his head. He winced as he felt the tug of the dry skin on his scars. With him on nights and Nick on days, and both of them pulling doubles, they hadn’t been in the same room long enough for Nick to rub the lotion on his scars and he just couldn’t reach. He started feeling even sorrier for himself.
When he got to the bedroom, he gave up in defeat. The bed was unmade and clothing was tossed everywhere. Books were lying open upside down on the floor, which he knew was him and not Nick, but, damn it, he was going to blame Nick anyway. He was too tired to start doing laundry even though they both desperately needed clean boxers. He was way too tired to straighten the bed and it was too messy to fall into.
That’s it; he would sleep on the couch. It’s not like Nick would notice. Nick probably wouldn’t make it home before Greg had to leave again anyway. And even if he did get home, he wouldn’t care where Greg slept, seeing as he didn’t want to sleep with him any more. He set his cell phone alarm and chose a CD from his collection. Something quiet, yeah. Carly Simon. The soft strains soothed him to sleep quickly.
When the alarm forced him awake, he didn’t feel any more rested. As he’d expected, Nick wasn’t home and Greg could imagine him eating breakfast with Warrick and Catherine, laughing and having a good time, while he’d been working his ass off cleaning. He showered and shaved, looked at himself in the mirror and shrugged. He didn’t put a single product in his hair. Why bother? It’s not like Nick ever looked at him any more, even when they were in the same room. The last time they were actually home together, the only time Nick kissed him was as he was leaving and even then he’d missed Greg’s mouth.
Greg dragged himself into work and was told that rather than getting a case, he had to sub in the lab. Crap. He was too tired to even curse, but he hated it when they just stuck him back in the lab especially after he’d worked so hard to become a CSI. He felt like no one took him seriously.
He saw Nick absently raise his hand in greeting as he passed by the lab. See? Nick didn’t even look at him. Nick didn’t love him anymore, he didn’t even see him. He stood motionless for a minute, clenching his hand on a defenseless pipette. Catherine and Warrick walked by and he overheard a scrap of their conversation.
“…how tired Nick is. Do you think he’s getting enough sle…”
Greg was shocked. Here he was accusing Nick of taking him for granted when he was doing the same thing. He almost ran for the locker room, where Nick was changing shoes. He paused in the doorway as Nick straightened up and leaned his head on his locker.
“Hey, Nicky,” Greg called softly.
Nick looked up and smiled. Greg kicked himself when he saw how exhausted Nick looked. The lines around his eyes were deeper than usual and he caught a little glint of grey in Nick’s hair. Where had he been when that happened?
“What’s up, G?”
“Just haven’t seen you for a while and I wanted to say hi,” Greg said. They smiled at each other from across the room. He could tell from Nick’s eyes that he wanted a hug and all his being cried out to cross to Nick’s side and hold him, but they’d agreed, no PDAs at work.
“Virtual hug,” Greg said softly.
“That’ll hold me till I get you alone,” Nick whispered. “I gotta go, Warrick’s waiting for me.”
Greg nodded, watching as Nick walked away from him, missing the familiar little bounce in his step.
Mercifully for the first time in weeks Greg only had to work a single shift. All the way home he had a song running teasingly through his head but he couldn’t remember all the lyrics. He played the CD while he changed the sheets and started a load of laundry.
Change the direction
Adjust the tuning
Try a new translation
Don’t look at your man in the same old way
Take a new picture
Just because you don’t see shooting stars
Doesn’t mean it isn’t perfect
Can’t you see...
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
It’s the slow and steady fire
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
It’s your heart and soul’s desire
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
So what’s this about your best friend?
She’s got a brand new shiny boy
And they’re moving out to Malibu
To play with all his pretty toys
And you feel closed in by the same four walls
The same old conversation
With the same old guy you’ve known for years
But use your imagination
And you will see....
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
It’s the slow and steady fire
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
It’s your heart and soul’s desire
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of
I’ll do it, he thought. He grabbed the CD for inspiration as he hurried to the car to do his errands.
~*~
When Nick arrived home he just wanted to sleep. He was so tired he was no longer even hungry. He missed Greg. It was hard to believe that you could see so little of someone you actually lived with. He tried to imagine what it would be like if they didn’t live together, but shook his head, pushing the thought away. That was something he hated to contemplate. Even if he never got to see him, at least Greg’s things were around the house, his scent on the sheets, his clothes taking up too much space in the closet.
Nick sighed as he opened the door, knowing he’d been slacking on his share of the housework and hoping Greg wasn’t too angry. He’d been sort of worried about it when Greg came into the locker room earlier but he hadn’t seemed pissed. Nick smiled softly when he remembered the virtual hug. It was all that had kept him going the last three hours. And God, he missed making love to Greg. It had been nearly two weeks but it felt like a year. And jacking off was just nothing compared to drowning in Greg.
Nick stopped dead in the doorway. The room was clean. There were flowers on the coffee table and lit candles. Soft music was playing and there was a big pile of cushions in front of the fireplace. There was a fire lit! Whenever they went camping Greg insisted he didn’t know how to light a fire because he was a city boy, but obviously he must have learned by watching what Nick was doing and not just perving on his ass like he’d always thought.
Greg came out from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Hi, love, want to go on a picnic?”
Suddenly very awake, Nick’s eyes lit up and he grinned, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Greg came over and kissed Nick softly, as Nick’s arms came up around him. “Let’s sit in front of the fire and have some wine.”
Greg had laid a checked tablecloth on the floor, with a baguette, cheese, paté and grapes. He sank cross-legged to the floor and handed Nick a glass of wine. They ate in comfortable silence, just looking at each other and smiling, and Greg watched the tension drain from Nick’s face. When they were finished, Greg took the food into the kitchen and put it all away, stacking the dishes in the washer as he went. He took a deep breath before heading back out.
Nick sat leaning his back against a chair, looking dreamily into the fire. When he saw Greg, he held out a hand to him.
“What did I do to deserve this?” Nick asked, pulling Greg in closer so he could relax against Nick’s shoulder.
“Nothing much, just missed you.”
“Missed you too.”
“So, can we make out?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Nick murmured as he nuzzled Greg’s neck. Greg turned in his arms and kissed him. This was a soft, gentle kiss, a getting to know you kiss. He kissed as if it was their first time, closing his eyes, drinking in the taste and feel of Nick that he’d been missing.
Nick ran a hand under Greg’s t-shirt and stroked his back. “I didn’t get a chance to put your lotion on. Is your skin dry?”
“Yeah, it’s pulling a little.”
“Why don’t you get it and I’ll put some on.”
Greg went to the bathroom for the lotion and when he came back, Nick took it from him and set it down. He pulled Greg’s t-shirt over his head and drew him closer for another slow kiss. Without breaking the kiss, he warmed some lotion in his hands and started moving them sensuously over Greg’s back. Greg squirmed in relief as the lotion eased the tightness of his scars but it was nothing compared to the relief at the desire he felt in Nick’s hands roaming over his skin.
Nick pulled Greg down to the cushions and pressed him closer, still kissing gently. When their lips parted, Greg closed his eyes to keep the tears back and said, “Nick, I thought you didn’t want me any more. I’ve been so stressed and feeling so alone…”
“I always want you, Greg. I know we’ve both been busy, but never doubt that. Even if I hardly ever get to see you at home, it makes me happy just to know you’re here. I could never do this without you.”
“Sometimes I wonder why we do this. It’s so hard sometimes, looking at what people do to each other, the different hours we work and everything. I got mad at you because you left towels on the floor but then I saw you and I knew…” Greg heard a snore and opened his eyes.
He grinned. Nick had fallen asleep, his hands still moving on Greg’s back. His head had rolled back, his mouth was open and the lines had faded from his relaxed face. Greg sighed. Guess I’m not getting lucky tonight either, he thought as he snuggled down next to Nick. Except I’m lucky everyday I have you.
“I love you, Nicky,” he whispered.
Is right here in disguise
And what if the stars you’ve been reaching so high for
Are shining in his eyes
Don’t look at yourself in the same old way
Take another picture
Shoot the stars off in your own backyard
Don’t look any further
And you will see
It’s the stuff that dreams are made of....
The song is: The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of by Carly Simon
A/N: I am not implying that Shacky20 did any of these things. In fact, she ate ice cream and no one in the story did. I just thought of her when I listened to the song. :-)
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Date: 2005-09-02 06:56 am (UTC)OMG..this is the best thing to read before going to bed!!!
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Date: 2005-09-02 07:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-02 09:13 am (UTC)I love those happy moments.
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Date: 2005-09-04 07:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-02 10:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 07:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-02 11:17 am (UTC)ctx :D
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Date: 2005-09-04 07:03 am (UTC)*sighs happily*
Date: 2005-09-02 11:37 am (UTC)I'm going to look back on this and ask myself, "What were you thinking writing this? THere's not nearly enough hero worship here." But it's early, I'm tired, and the only thing my brain was able to comprehend was Nick/Greg slash. Bills? Real Life? HA! N/G all the way! Your N/G is the best. The lotion is kind of intimate and sweet, actually, and it was my favorite part, although all your stories are favorites. I adore you!!! ^_^
Re: *sighs happily*
Date: 2005-09-04 07:07 am (UTC)Bring on the hero worship. I'm definitely short in that area so I can't get enuf. In fact, I'll just settle for a nice rub on the head and an Oreo. :-) Ah, the lotion. I don't know if you remember but in Baby Steps I mentioned something about the graft breaking loose and Kahlua said she wanted a story about that, so I've been researching burns and scars and it turns out you have to put lotion on everyday. So a nice opp for an intimate moment. Thanks, sweets, I adore you too and your chapter 5 of Snapshots is AWESOME!
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Date: 2005-09-02 12:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 07:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-02 02:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 07:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 12:00 am (UTC)Favorite parts:
The lines around his eyes were deeper than usual and he caught a little glint of grey in Nick’s hair. Where had he been when that happened? This just touched me.
“Virtual hug,” Greg said softly. Adorable, I can imagine him saying this.
...but obviously he must have learned by watching what Nick was doing and not just perving on his ass like he’d always thought. Heheheh.
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Date: 2005-09-04 07:11 am (UTC)I can imagine Greg saying virtual hug too. And give credit where credit is due, the part about perving on Nick's ass was a suggestion from my lovely and aerial beta, fred_bear and I knew the sentence needed something to end it and that was just hysterically funny.
Btw, congrats on your nom in the CSI awards on your story Smoke Jumper. I LOVED that story as evidenced by the fact that I remember it and mention of it in the noms caught my eye. I really enjoyed the soft, gentle, affectionate feeling in it. So congrats! :-)
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Date: 2005-09-04 11:23 pm (UTC)Oh and I <3 Somke Jumper very much too! But I guess Maribou already knows that. ;)
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Date: 2005-09-05 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-05 04:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-05 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-05 05:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-06 04:23 am (UTC)