by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I put on the coffee and then called Dana to make sure that today was good for her. Fortunately she's a housewife. Even better, she's a homebody. Today was fine, she said. Come on over. She already had a hundred ideas for the costumes.
I hung up the phone and headed back toward the living room, but I paused at the threshold. Sean was chatting amiably--he can be a charming devil, when it suits him--and Jeremy was listening with an earnest expression on his face.
I shook my head at that. Jeremy looked much too serious. But he did manage to smile at one of Sean's jokes about the theater.
I folded my arms and leaned sideways against the wall, studying Jeremy. I decided that my first impression had been correct. He was pretty--uncommonly so. And he had chiseled features that lent a sharp edge to his beauty. I smiled to myself. He was a pretty-boy with character.
He was too thin, I supposed, but that was a minor issue. As for his condition--I was still of the same mind. His uneven shoulders and limp didn't bother me. Not even his quaking and drooling made him less attractive. Only the bitterness in his expression did that. Sean was right: this boy had a chip on his shoulder.
Well, what did I care? I wasn't after him. I had enough problems figuring out where I stood with Sean. I had a feeling that last night was not going to prove an isolated incident.
I glanced over at Sean. He was doing his utmost to draw Jeremy out of his shell. He was also feeling Jeremy out. I don't think Jeremy struck either of us as a straight boy, but he was hard to figure. Too many variables.
At length Sean noticed me standing there. "Is the coffee ready?" he asked.
"Give it a minute," I said, smiling.
He nodded. "Well, in that case, I'll go grab a shower," he said. He took a moment to stretch himself out with the languid, casual grace of a lynx. Then he stood up, smiled at both of us, and made his way upstairs.
I took a seat on the couch again. Jeremy wasn't looking at me--he was staring thoughtfully at my bookshelves. His eyes hadn't followed Sean up the stairs, I noticed. For some reason I was pleased by that fact.
Silence stretched out between us. It should have felt awkward, but I wasn't uncomfortable. I was satisfied by Jeremy's preoccupation with my books. In fact, I was almost surprised when he finally spoke up.
"What do you think of Richard?" he asked, turning those hard hazel eyes of his on me. "The real Richard, I mean."
"I think he was innocent," I owned. "He was devoted to his brother Edward--I can't really imagine him murdering Edward's sons. Besides, Henry Tudor had just as much reason to commit that crime--more, perhaps."
Jeremy nodded. "It all comes down to when those two boys died, doesn't it? Did they survive into Henry Tudor's reign or didn't they?" He paused and chewed on his lip. "Whatever really happened, I prefer Shakespeare's Richard."
"Why?" I asked.
He smiled suddenly--a biting, self-mocking smile. "The real Richard might not have had the hunched back and the lame leg," he explained. "I want a Richard that I can identify with."
I cocked my head at him. "Shakespeare's Richard was a master at manipulating people," I ventured. "He used his disabilities to play on their sympathy."
Jeremy grinned outright at that. For a moment the self-mockery disappeared. "Yes," he agreed. "God, I admire that. I suppose that's why I want to portray him. He takes his disabilities--these disabilities that he loathes--and turns them to his advantage. With their help he seduces the entire audience. We know what a bastard he is and we know how much blood is on his hands, but we can't help but root for him."
I grinned back at him. "Until he has the two little princes murdered," I pointed out.
"True," Jeremy acknowledged. "But he holds the audience spellbound up to that point. And even after that, I think most audiences still feel a twinge of sympathy for him."
"I do," I admitted. "I feel some admiration too. No one ever doubts Richard's courage or resourcefulness."
Jeremy nodded at that and opened his mouth to say something more. But then he changed his mind and lapsed back into silence.
There was an odd expression on his face now. At a guess, I'd say he was astonished that he had spoken so much. Judging by his behavior at the audition, he was too reserved to open up to strangers.
But he shouldn't regard me as a stranger. We'd be spending plenty of time together--I was going to be directing him, after all.
"Would you like some coffee?" I asked. That, at least, was a neutral question that didn't touch on his disabilities. "It should be done by now."
He shook his head. "No thank you," he said.
"Well, I'm going to fetch a cup for myself," I said.
He merely nodded.
I shrugged to myself as I stood up and walked back into the kitchen. Two steps forward and one step back--but at least I had made some progress with the guy.
LINK TO PART TEN: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-shadow-in-sun-part-ten.html
Monday, December 31, 2007
Saturday, December 29, 2007
My Shadow in the Sun, Part Eight
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I had to take a deep breath of my own before I trusted myself to answer. This guy had taken the trouble to audition--he had stayed for hours while I tried him in different parts and with different co-stars. And suddenly he meant to back out?
On the other hand, if he was going to quit on us it was best that he do so now. Perhaps I should be happy about this. Sean would take over the lead and life would return to normal. I wouldn't have to worry about some unknown with disabilities that might or might not cause a problem.
But Jeremy was good. Unpolished, perhaps--but Sean and I would take care of that. I wanted to see this man on stage. After his audition, I had a hard time picturing anyone else as Richard.
"Why don't you sit down," I invited. "Then you can tell me what the problem is."
For a moment I thought he would refuse the chair. Social graces, it seemed, were not his forte. But after a long, awkward pause he nodded and sat down on the edge of a recliner, still leaning on his cane as he held it in front of him.
I took a seat on the couch opposite him. "Why don't you want the part?" I asked.
"It's not that I don't want it," he said. "I don't like the way it was handed to me."
I cocked my head at him. "Handed to you?"
He nodded. "Look, I--I found out that my mother made a donation to your theater. A donation with strings attached."
He was shaking a bit, I noticed. And he was drooling again. Well, he was no longer auditioning. I couldn't just stare at him this time, so I glanced away as he wiped his face.
I sighed as I turned back to him. At least I could understand where he was coming from now. "You think that one of the conditions of your mother's donation was to cast you as Richard?"
He nodded again and stared down at the floor.
I chose my words carefully. I wanted to be truthful--but not so truthful that I would scare him off. Technically speaking, his mother had only bribed us to mount a production of Richard III. She hadn't bribed us to cast Jeremy as the lead. Sheila may have hoped that more money would follow if Jeremy landed the part, but that was mere conjecture.
Besides, my conscience was clear. I had been determined not to cast Jeremy--until I saw how well he fit the role.
"Your mother did give us a generous donation," I owned. "And God knows we needed it--we are a small community theater, after all. But we already have that money in the bank. All we had to do for it was mount a production of Richard III."
Jeremy looked back up at that and narrowed his eyes at me. "She didn't ask you to cast me as Richard?"
I shook my head. "No. That may have been her fondest hope, but it wasn't part of the deal." I paused, wondering how much more I should say. At length I decided to tell Jeremy everything--excepting Sheila's hope for future donations. I didn't want Jeremy thinking he had gotten the part because of that.
"Once we agreed to mount Richard III, I did hear that Mrs. David wanted her son to play the lead," I continued. "But that only made me determined to give the part to someone else. I didn't decide to cast you until I saw your audition."
He reddened at that and fell silent. When he finally spoke up again, it was as if he were measuring each word. "I don't have much experience acting. I don't know how I'll be--especially in front of a real audience. I shake more when I'm nervous."
He paused to wipe more drool off his face. "I--I drool more too."
I didn't look away from him this time, despite the quaking and the drool. "You'll have plenty of time to get used to an audience," I said gently.
But he wasn't satisfied. "What if I can't do it?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Then Sean--he's the one who will be playing Clarence--will take over your part," I said. "And Jake--he has a few bit parts--will play Clarence. It will all work out."
The ghost of a smile crossed Jeremy's face. "You're prepared for me to fail, aren't you?"
I gave him an apologetic grin. "I don't know you yet, Jeremy. I don't know if you're reliable. I don't know that you won't quit on us."
"I came here to do just that," he reminded me. "Can I--can I take that back?"
"Yeah," I said. And then I extended my hand to him. "Welcome aboard."
He took my hand reluctantly and only after wiping his own hand against his jeans. That's when I remembered that he had used his hand to wipe the drool off his face. I bit back a smile. He really should carry a handkerchief with him, but I couldn't think of a tactful way to suggest that.
Jeremy opened his mouth to say something--some sort of apology, perhaps--but Sean chose that moment to come strolling down the stairs. Whatever Jeremy had planned to say, the words died on his lips.
Sean had thrown on a pair of my sweats, but he hadn't troubled with any other clothes. He was barefoot and bare-chested and he had that mussy-just-got-out-of-bed look to him. He nodded at Jeremy and then bent down to kiss me passionately on the lips before collapsing next to me on the couch.
"Jeremy, right?" he said to our guest. "I'm Sean. I'll be training you up."
Jeremy didn't know how to respond to Sean or quite what to make of him. "Uh, thanks," he managed. "I'm sorry--I hadn't meant to barge in on--on you two. I should get going."
"No, stay," Sean ordered. "We've got to go talk with Dana--she's our costume lady. You might as well tag along and give your input. Then we can start working on your projection."
Jeremy gave me an uncertain look.
"Yeah," I told him. "It'd be good to have you with us."
He shrugged. It was an odd movement in him, since his shoulders weren't evenly matched. "Ok," he said.
"That's settled," Sean said. Then he turned to me. "Why don't you go put on some coffee, Rob? I'll go over some basics with Jeremy."
I couldn't find a reason to refuse, so I nodded and got up. I didn't like leaving Jeremy in Sean's hands, though. I frowned to myself as I walked into the kitchen--I felt as if I had just placed a lamb in a cougar's care.
LINK TO PART NINE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-nine.html
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I had to take a deep breath of my own before I trusted myself to answer. This guy had taken the trouble to audition--he had stayed for hours while I tried him in different parts and with different co-stars. And suddenly he meant to back out?
On the other hand, if he was going to quit on us it was best that he do so now. Perhaps I should be happy about this. Sean would take over the lead and life would return to normal. I wouldn't have to worry about some unknown with disabilities that might or might not cause a problem.
But Jeremy was good. Unpolished, perhaps--but Sean and I would take care of that. I wanted to see this man on stage. After his audition, I had a hard time picturing anyone else as Richard.
"Why don't you sit down," I invited. "Then you can tell me what the problem is."
For a moment I thought he would refuse the chair. Social graces, it seemed, were not his forte. But after a long, awkward pause he nodded and sat down on the edge of a recliner, still leaning on his cane as he held it in front of him.
I took a seat on the couch opposite him. "Why don't you want the part?" I asked.
"It's not that I don't want it," he said. "I don't like the way it was handed to me."
I cocked my head at him. "Handed to you?"
He nodded. "Look, I--I found out that my mother made a donation to your theater. A donation with strings attached."
He was shaking a bit, I noticed. And he was drooling again. Well, he was no longer auditioning. I couldn't just stare at him this time, so I glanced away as he wiped his face.
I sighed as I turned back to him. At least I could understand where he was coming from now. "You think that one of the conditions of your mother's donation was to cast you as Richard?"
He nodded again and stared down at the floor.
I chose my words carefully. I wanted to be truthful--but not so truthful that I would scare him off. Technically speaking, his mother had only bribed us to mount a production of Richard III. She hadn't bribed us to cast Jeremy as the lead. Sheila may have hoped that more money would follow if Jeremy landed the part, but that was mere conjecture.
Besides, my conscience was clear. I had been determined not to cast Jeremy--until I saw how well he fit the role.
"Your mother did give us a generous donation," I owned. "And God knows we needed it--we are a small community theater, after all. But we already have that money in the bank. All we had to do for it was mount a production of Richard III."
Jeremy looked back up at that and narrowed his eyes at me. "She didn't ask you to cast me as Richard?"
I shook my head. "No. That may have been her fondest hope, but it wasn't part of the deal." I paused, wondering how much more I should say. At length I decided to tell Jeremy everything--excepting Sheila's hope for future donations. I didn't want Jeremy thinking he had gotten the part because of that.
"Once we agreed to mount Richard III, I did hear that Mrs. David wanted her son to play the lead," I continued. "But that only made me determined to give the part to someone else. I didn't decide to cast you until I saw your audition."
He reddened at that and fell silent. When he finally spoke up again, it was as if he were measuring each word. "I don't have much experience acting. I don't know how I'll be--especially in front of a real audience. I shake more when I'm nervous."
He paused to wipe more drool off his face. "I--I drool more too."
I didn't look away from him this time, despite the quaking and the drool. "You'll have plenty of time to get used to an audience," I said gently.
But he wasn't satisfied. "What if I can't do it?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Then Sean--he's the one who will be playing Clarence--will take over your part," I said. "And Jake--he has a few bit parts--will play Clarence. It will all work out."
The ghost of a smile crossed Jeremy's face. "You're prepared for me to fail, aren't you?"
I gave him an apologetic grin. "I don't know you yet, Jeremy. I don't know if you're reliable. I don't know that you won't quit on us."
"I came here to do just that," he reminded me. "Can I--can I take that back?"
"Yeah," I said. And then I extended my hand to him. "Welcome aboard."
He took my hand reluctantly and only after wiping his own hand against his jeans. That's when I remembered that he had used his hand to wipe the drool off his face. I bit back a smile. He really should carry a handkerchief with him, but I couldn't think of a tactful way to suggest that.
Jeremy opened his mouth to say something--some sort of apology, perhaps--but Sean chose that moment to come strolling down the stairs. Whatever Jeremy had planned to say, the words died on his lips.
Sean had thrown on a pair of my sweats, but he hadn't troubled with any other clothes. He was barefoot and bare-chested and he had that mussy-just-got-out-of-bed look to him. He nodded at Jeremy and then bent down to kiss me passionately on the lips before collapsing next to me on the couch.
"Jeremy, right?" he said to our guest. "I'm Sean. I'll be training you up."
Jeremy didn't know how to respond to Sean or quite what to make of him. "Uh, thanks," he managed. "I'm sorry--I hadn't meant to barge in on--on you two. I should get going."
"No, stay," Sean ordered. "We've got to go talk with Dana--she's our costume lady. You might as well tag along and give your input. Then we can start working on your projection."
Jeremy gave me an uncertain look.
"Yeah," I told him. "It'd be good to have you with us."
He shrugged. It was an odd movement in him, since his shoulders weren't evenly matched. "Ok," he said.
"That's settled," Sean said. Then he turned to me. "Why don't you go put on some coffee, Rob? I'll go over some basics with Jeremy."
I couldn't find a reason to refuse, so I nodded and got up. I didn't like leaving Jeremy in Sean's hands, though. I frowned to myself as I walked into the kitchen--I felt as if I had just placed a lamb in a cougar's care.
LINK TO PART NINE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-nine.html
Thursday, December 27, 2007
A Brotherly Love
by J. Rosemary MossGenre: Fan Fiction (Bonanza)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Adam has his hands full with a drunk and disorderly Little Joe in the aftermath of The Quality of Mercy.
~
The barkeep eyed the youngest Cartwright wearily. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Little Joe?”
“I still got money in my pocket, Clem,” he answered in a drunken slur. “Enough for one more drink and one more girl—pour me `nother.”
Clem doubted that Joe could handle either a drink or a girl at the moment, but he complied anyway. Just as he set the drink on the bar Adam Cartwright strode into the saloon. Clem breathed a sigh of relief and sent him a pleading glance.
Adam raised his eyebrows at Clem and then sighed when he got a look at his brother. He made his way over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Come on, Joe,” he said. “Time to go home.”
“Don’t worry about me none, older brother,” Joe managed with drunken smile. “There's a girl here I'll stay with. Where's Maggie?”
“I don’t think Maggie's too anxious for your company just now,” Adam commented. “Come on.”
Clem cringed as Joe took a swing at his brother. But he needn’t have worried—Joe was too drunk to be accurate. Adam ducked easily and managed to sling Joe up over his shoulder as he stood up again. Clem expected to hear some protests from Little Joe, but the kid kept quiet. He must have passed out.
He smiled as Adam held onto Joe with one hand and dug into his pocket with the other. He watched him produced a few coins and set them on the bar.
“Does this cover his tab?” he asked.
Clem nodded. “Sure does.”
Adam tipped his hat with his free hand and exited the saloon, still carrying his brother. Clem shook his head and hoped that he wouldn’t see Little Joe for a spell. That young man was spending far too much time drinking of late.
~
Adam walked into the International House with Joe slumped over his shoulder. He would have preferred to bring him back to the Ponderosa, but Joe was in no condition to ride. So Adam signed in and paid for the room with his free hand. Then he carried Joe upstairs, drawing a few snickers and raised eyebrows along the way.
He brought Joe into their room and deposited him on the bed. Then he got his jacket and boots off without waking him. Good. With any luck he’d stay passed out for the remainder of the night.
Adam stood at the side of the bed for a long moment, just looking down at his brother. He furrowed his brow, wondering what had set him off. Joe enjoyed his liquor but he didn’t usually drink to excess. He frowned and tousled Joe’s hair. He was worried for his little brother. Worried and angry. The kid hadn’t slept at the Ponderosa for four nights now—Pa was getting frantic.
But Joe wasn’t a kid, he reminded himself. He was a grown man now. Which was too bad—Adam would take great pleasure in putting Joe over his knee right about now. But he forced himself to dismiss that thought.
He sighed as he shrugged himself out of his own jacket. He would bring Joe home tomorrow—willingly or not. Maybe Pa could get to the bottom of his problem.
Adam unbuttoned his shirt, pulled off his boots and then washed up. He emptied the basin when he was done and set it on the floor close to Joe’s side of the bed. He had a feeling that his brother would need it come morning. When that was done he climbed into the bed, put his back to Little Joe and closed his eyes. He was just drifting off to sleep when he felt Joe shaking him.
"Hey Adam, you awake?"
Adam sighed. He had no mind to talk with him now—not while the liquor was still in his system. He thought about feigning sleep, but decided against it. It was unlikely that Joe would give up.
"Yeah, I’m awake," he admitted. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing," he said. Adam noticed that his voice was still slurred. "I just—just wanted to know."
"Well, now you know," Adam said. "I’m going to try to get some sleep."
"Okay," Joe said.
Adam closed his eyes again. Not a minute later he felt Joe’s hand back on his shoulder.
"Hey Adam?"
"What?"
"You were right."
Adam rolled over so that he was facing Joe. He had left one lantern burning, so he could just make out his little brother's face.
He propped himself up with his elbow. "About what?" he asked.
Joe shrugged. He was sitting up in bed now. "’Bout Seth," he answered.
So that’s what was eating Joe. But that was months ago! But the trial was only a few weeks ago, he reminded himself. Adam swore under his breath. He should have guessed how that would affect Joe. How could he be so stupid?
Seth was an old friend of Little Joe’s—as was his fiancée, Sara. Seth had murdered his future father-in-law and then convinced Joe that it was a mercy killing. He even got Joe to lie for him.
Adam sat up and put an arm over Joe’s shoulder. "Joe, you’ve got to put that behind you. You made a bad decision—but you set it right."
Joe shook his head. "I lied for him, Adam. He would’ve gotten away with murder."
"But he didn’t," Adam reminded him.
Joe sighed. "Yeah, I know. And now he’s dead and Sara’s miserable."
"Sara would be a lot more miserable if she’d married him and found out later what kind of man he was," he pointed out.
"Maybe," Joe said with a shrug. "Jesus, Adam, why’d they have to hang him?"
"He killed Sara’s father in cold blood, Joe," Adam reminded him. "I know he was your friend once, but he deserved to hang." He paused and tousled Joe’s hair again. "Now come on, let’s get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning."
Joe said something like "Yea’alright," and curled up against the crook of Adam’s arm.
Adam rolled his eyes but he smiled despite himself. He remembered Joe as a little kid and how he used to crawl into Adam’s bed at night to demand a story. Well, at least now he knew what was wrong. Hopefully in the morning Joe would talk it all out.
Adam sighed and considered pushing his brother back down to his own side, but it didn’t seem worthwhile. So he closed his eyes instead and fell asleep with his head resting on top of Little Joe’s.
~
Joe woke up with a blinding headache. He moaned and tried to open his eyes, but it was just too painful.
He sighed and wondered who he was nestled up against. He was almost afraid to find out, because it wasn’t a woman.
But hadn’t he gone to bed with Maggie? No, he never made it that far. Adam had come into the saloon and carried him off. He breathed a sigh of relief. It must be Adam that he was curled up next to. He could deal with that.
He stayed right where he was, hoping that his head would clear. But no such luck. He would have to get up and vomit the liquor.
Just then Adam began to stir. Joe felt him lift his head off of his own and then he heard him yawn.
“Are you awake, Joe?” he asked at length.
“Kinda,” Joe answered. “I’m trying to get the strength to open my eyes. My head is pounding.”
Adam chortled. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
Joe felt him try to disentangle himself from their, um, brotherly embrace. He protested immediately. “Don’t, Adam!” he pleaded. “I’m comfortable. Besides, I might hurl right here if you move too fast.”
Adam sighed and kept still. “All right, I’ll give you a few minutes.”
They were quiet for a spell. Joe broke the silence.
“Hey Adam?”
“What?”
“Why didn’t you take me to task over that whole Seth affair?”
He felt Adam shrug. “Because you’re a grown man. Why should I holler at you? Besides, I knew you’d do the right thing in the end.”
Joe frowned, wondering why Adam had such confidence in him. “I don’t know, older brother—I came close to letting Seth go.”
“But you didn’t, Joe,” Adam reminded him. “And I knew you wouldn’t.”
“How?” Joe demanded.
He shrugged again. “Because I know you,” he answered. “You ready to get up?”
Joe managed to pry his eyes open and look up at his older brother. “I’m ready to try.”
Adam grinned. “All right. I’ll get up first and bring the basin to your mouth. Once you finish hurling your guts out, we’ll get some water into you.”
Joe nodded and shut his eyes again. Normally he’d object to Adam babying him—but he didn’t mind at the moment.
He cringed again at the way his head was pounding—not to mention the way his stomach was churning. He knew that he should tell Adam how grateful he was for fetching him from the saloon last night, but he was in too much agony to find the words.
“I owe you one, Adam,” he managed as he felt his brother get up to retrieve the basin.
Adam responded by walking around the bed, lifting the basin up and helping Joe tilt his head toward it. Joe understood his methodical silence—no thanks were necessary.
This is what brothers were for.
“I still got money in my pocket, Clem,” he answered in a drunken slur. “Enough for one more drink and one more girl—pour me `nother.”
Clem doubted that Joe could handle either a drink or a girl at the moment, but he complied anyway. Just as he set the drink on the bar Adam Cartwright strode into the saloon. Clem breathed a sigh of relief and sent him a pleading glance.
Adam raised his eyebrows at Clem and then sighed when he got a look at his brother. He made his way over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Come on, Joe,” he said. “Time to go home.”
“Don’t worry about me none, older brother,” Joe managed with drunken smile. “There's a girl here I'll stay with. Where's Maggie?”
“I don’t think Maggie's too anxious for your company just now,” Adam commented. “Come on.”
Clem cringed as Joe took a swing at his brother. But he needn’t have worried—Joe was too drunk to be accurate. Adam ducked easily and managed to sling Joe up over his shoulder as he stood up again. Clem expected to hear some protests from Little Joe, but the kid kept quiet. He must have passed out.
He smiled as Adam held onto Joe with one hand and dug into his pocket with the other. He watched him produced a few coins and set them on the bar.
“Does this cover his tab?” he asked.
Clem nodded. “Sure does.”
Adam tipped his hat with his free hand and exited the saloon, still carrying his brother. Clem shook his head and hoped that he wouldn’t see Little Joe for a spell. That young man was spending far too much time drinking of late.
~
Adam walked into the International House with Joe slumped over his shoulder. He would have preferred to bring him back to the Ponderosa, but Joe was in no condition to ride. So Adam signed in and paid for the room with his free hand. Then he carried Joe upstairs, drawing a few snickers and raised eyebrows along the way.
He brought Joe into their room and deposited him on the bed. Then he got his jacket and boots off without waking him. Good. With any luck he’d stay passed out for the remainder of the night.
Adam stood at the side of the bed for a long moment, just looking down at his brother. He furrowed his brow, wondering what had set him off. Joe enjoyed his liquor but he didn’t usually drink to excess. He frowned and tousled Joe’s hair. He was worried for his little brother. Worried and angry. The kid hadn’t slept at the Ponderosa for four nights now—Pa was getting frantic.
But Joe wasn’t a kid, he reminded himself. He was a grown man now. Which was too bad—Adam would take great pleasure in putting Joe over his knee right about now. But he forced himself to dismiss that thought.
He sighed as he shrugged himself out of his own jacket. He would bring Joe home tomorrow—willingly or not. Maybe Pa could get to the bottom of his problem.
Adam unbuttoned his shirt, pulled off his boots and then washed up. He emptied the basin when he was done and set it on the floor close to Joe’s side of the bed. He had a feeling that his brother would need it come morning. When that was done he climbed into the bed, put his back to Little Joe and closed his eyes. He was just drifting off to sleep when he felt Joe shaking him.
"Hey Adam, you awake?"
Adam sighed. He had no mind to talk with him now—not while the liquor was still in his system. He thought about feigning sleep, but decided against it. It was unlikely that Joe would give up.
"Yeah, I’m awake," he admitted. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing," he said. Adam noticed that his voice was still slurred. "I just—just wanted to know."
"Well, now you know," Adam said. "I’m going to try to get some sleep."
"Okay," Joe said.
Adam closed his eyes again. Not a minute later he felt Joe’s hand back on his shoulder.
"Hey Adam?"
"What?"
"You were right."
Adam rolled over so that he was facing Joe. He had left one lantern burning, so he could just make out his little brother's face.
He propped himself up with his elbow. "About what?" he asked.
Joe shrugged. He was sitting up in bed now. "’Bout Seth," he answered.
So that’s what was eating Joe. But that was months ago! But the trial was only a few weeks ago, he reminded himself. Adam swore under his breath. He should have guessed how that would affect Joe. How could he be so stupid?
Seth was an old friend of Little Joe’s—as was his fiancée, Sara. Seth had murdered his future father-in-law and then convinced Joe that it was a mercy killing. He even got Joe to lie for him.
Adam sat up and put an arm over Joe’s shoulder. "Joe, you’ve got to put that behind you. You made a bad decision—but you set it right."
Joe shook his head. "I lied for him, Adam. He would’ve gotten away with murder."
"But he didn’t," Adam reminded him.
Joe sighed. "Yeah, I know. And now he’s dead and Sara’s miserable."
"Sara would be a lot more miserable if she’d married him and found out later what kind of man he was," he pointed out.
"Maybe," Joe said with a shrug. "Jesus, Adam, why’d they have to hang him?"
"He killed Sara’s father in cold blood, Joe," Adam reminded him. "I know he was your friend once, but he deserved to hang." He paused and tousled Joe’s hair again. "Now come on, let’s get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning."
Joe said something like "Yea’alright," and curled up against the crook of Adam’s arm.
Adam rolled his eyes but he smiled despite himself. He remembered Joe as a little kid and how he used to crawl into Adam’s bed at night to demand a story. Well, at least now he knew what was wrong. Hopefully in the morning Joe would talk it all out.
Adam sighed and considered pushing his brother back down to his own side, but it didn’t seem worthwhile. So he closed his eyes instead and fell asleep with his head resting on top of Little Joe’s.
~
Joe woke up with a blinding headache. He moaned and tried to open his eyes, but it was just too painful.
He sighed and wondered who he was nestled up against. He was almost afraid to find out, because it wasn’t a woman.
But hadn’t he gone to bed with Maggie? No, he never made it that far. Adam had come into the saloon and carried him off. He breathed a sigh of relief. It must be Adam that he was curled up next to. He could deal with that.
He stayed right where he was, hoping that his head would clear. But no such luck. He would have to get up and vomit the liquor.
Just then Adam began to stir. Joe felt him lift his head off of his own and then he heard him yawn.
“Are you awake, Joe?” he asked at length.
“Kinda,” Joe answered. “I’m trying to get the strength to open my eyes. My head is pounding.”
Adam chortled. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
Joe felt him try to disentangle himself from their, um, brotherly embrace. He protested immediately. “Don’t, Adam!” he pleaded. “I’m comfortable. Besides, I might hurl right here if you move too fast.”
Adam sighed and kept still. “All right, I’ll give you a few minutes.”
They were quiet for a spell. Joe broke the silence.
“Hey Adam?”
“What?”
“Why didn’t you take me to task over that whole Seth affair?”
He felt Adam shrug. “Because you’re a grown man. Why should I holler at you? Besides, I knew you’d do the right thing in the end.”
Joe frowned, wondering why Adam had such confidence in him. “I don’t know, older brother—I came close to letting Seth go.”
“But you didn’t, Joe,” Adam reminded him. “And I knew you wouldn’t.”
“How?” Joe demanded.
He shrugged again. “Because I know you,” he answered. “You ready to get up?”
Joe managed to pry his eyes open and look up at his older brother. “I’m ready to try.”
Adam grinned. “All right. I’ll get up first and bring the basin to your mouth. Once you finish hurling your guts out, we’ll get some water into you.”
Joe nodded and shut his eyes again. Normally he’d object to Adam babying him—but he didn’t mind at the moment.
He cringed again at the way his head was pounding—not to mention the way his stomach was churning. He knew that he should tell Adam how grateful he was for fetching him from the saloon last night, but he was in too much agony to find the words.
“I owe you one, Adam,” he managed as he felt his brother get up to retrieve the basin.
Adam responded by walking around the bed, lifting the basin up and helping Joe tilt his head toward it. Joe understood his methodical silence—no thanks were necessary.
This is what brothers were for.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
My Shadow in the Sun, Part Seven
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
My alarm went off at five the next morning. I heard Falstaff jump up from his place at the bottom of the bed. Then Sean moaned as he reached over and shut the alarm off. He snuggled back up against me when he finished, making it impossible for me to get up.
"I've got to go the gym," I muttered as I started stroking his hair.
"Screw the gym," he said. "Screw work too--take the day off. I'll go with you to Dana's instead. You two can figure out what to do about the costumes."
"What about your job?" I asked.
"I quit the other day," he answered.
I sighed. Sean didn't have much of a work ethic. He flitted from one office job to another, leaning on me or his folks if he ran out of money in the meanwhile. But he never had a problem finding someone to hire him: his looks and charm saw to that.
I thought about my own job: Sean was right, the office could spare me today. I would wait for a more reasonable hour and then call out. I had all my personal days saved up, after all. I might as well use them before the end of the year.
We spent a few more leisurely hours in bed. It was past ten by the time we were thinking of getting up. We might have stayed under the covers even longer if it hadn't been for the doorbell.
"Who's that?" Sean murmured.
Not being psychic, I shrugged. "I don't know--I'll go check."
Sean rolled off of me, dragging my blankets with him as he cocooned himself inside them. I grinned at that as I climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats. I grabbed a tee-shirt on my way downstairs and looked almost respectable by the time I got to the door.
I glanced out my front window. Jeremy David was standing on my porch. I furrowed my brow at that. I hadn't called him yet to let him know that he had the part. Had he come to pester me for an answer?
I tried to swallow my annoyance as I flung the door open. "Hey," I said.
"I looked up your address on-line," he said without preamble. "I didn't know if you'd be home--I'd like to talk with you about the play."
My annoyance changed to amusement. In fact, I had to bite back a grin. Jeremy looked so much in earnest that you would have thought lives depended on whatever he had to say to me.
"Come on in," I said, keeping my voice light.
I stepped aside for him and watched him stomp into my living room. He was leaning heavily on his cane. I stared at his back as he walked past me. It was the left side of his body that--well, that seemed to droop. His left shoulder was lower than his right shoulder and his left leg was shorter than his right leg.
He turned to face me. For a moment we stood there and stared, each taking the other's measure.
I was the one to break the silence. "I'm glad you came by," I said. "I wanted to tell you that you'll be playing Richard."
He looked down at the floor. "Thank you," he said. "But I've come to tell you that I want to--I want to recant my audition."
He paused and took a deep breath before staring back up at me. "I can't take the part."
LINK TO PART EIGHT: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-eight.html
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
My alarm went off at five the next morning. I heard Falstaff jump up from his place at the bottom of the bed. Then Sean moaned as he reached over and shut the alarm off. He snuggled back up against me when he finished, making it impossible for me to get up.
"I've got to go the gym," I muttered as I started stroking his hair.
"Screw the gym," he said. "Screw work too--take the day off. I'll go with you to Dana's instead. You two can figure out what to do about the costumes."
"What about your job?" I asked.
"I quit the other day," he answered.
I sighed. Sean didn't have much of a work ethic. He flitted from one office job to another, leaning on me or his folks if he ran out of money in the meanwhile. But he never had a problem finding someone to hire him: his looks and charm saw to that.
I thought about my own job: Sean was right, the office could spare me today. I would wait for a more reasonable hour and then call out. I had all my personal days saved up, after all. I might as well use them before the end of the year.
We spent a few more leisurely hours in bed. It was past ten by the time we were thinking of getting up. We might have stayed under the covers even longer if it hadn't been for the doorbell.
"Who's that?" Sean murmured.
Not being psychic, I shrugged. "I don't know--I'll go check."
Sean rolled off of me, dragging my blankets with him as he cocooned himself inside them. I grinned at that as I climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats. I grabbed a tee-shirt on my way downstairs and looked almost respectable by the time I got to the door.
I glanced out my front window. Jeremy David was standing on my porch. I furrowed my brow at that. I hadn't called him yet to let him know that he had the part. Had he come to pester me for an answer?
I tried to swallow my annoyance as I flung the door open. "Hey," I said.
"I looked up your address on-line," he said without preamble. "I didn't know if you'd be home--I'd like to talk with you about the play."
My annoyance changed to amusement. In fact, I had to bite back a grin. Jeremy looked so much in earnest that you would have thought lives depended on whatever he had to say to me.
"Come on in," I said, keeping my voice light.
I stepped aside for him and watched him stomp into my living room. He was leaning heavily on his cane. I stared at his back as he walked past me. It was the left side of his body that--well, that seemed to droop. His left shoulder was lower than his right shoulder and his left leg was shorter than his right leg.
He turned to face me. For a moment we stood there and stared, each taking the other's measure.
I was the one to break the silence. "I'm glad you came by," I said. "I wanted to tell you that you'll be playing Richard."
He looked down at the floor. "Thank you," he said. "But I've come to tell you that I want to--I want to recant my audition."
He paused and took a deep breath before staring back up at me. "I can't take the part."
LINK TO PART EIGHT: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-eight.html
Sunday, December 23, 2007
My Shadow in the Sun, Part Six
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
“I want the part of Clarence,” Sean said. “If I can’t manipulate the audience as Richard, I want to make them shiver and cry as Clarence tells his dream.”
We were in my kitchen, exchanging thoughts on the casting. Sean was leaning back in his chair to the point that I was certain he would tip over. Somehow he managed to keep his balance as he lifted his feet and rested them on an empty seat.
“You’re Clarence,” I agreed, “although Jeremy wasn’t bad in that part.’
In addition to reading several scenes as Richard, I had Jeremy audition for other parts. I could guess that he felt a personal connection with Richard, but I wanted to see how he would handle other roles.
“Yeah, he really can act,” Sean said grudgingly. “But you have to use him as Richard.”
I smiled. “I know. But I want you to understudy Richard—we don’t know how reliable Jeremy is.”
Sean understood what I left unsaid. We didn't know if Jeremy's cerebral palsy would interfere with his commitment to the production. Neither of us knew enough about his condition to judge.
Sean nodded. “Yeah, I'll understudy Richard. That goes without saying. Mind if I light up?” he asked, reaching for his coat.
“Yes,” I said.
“Yes, I can light up or yes, you mind?”
“Yes, I mind.”
He rolled his eyes and leaned back again. “What about Lady Anne?” he asked, changing the subject. “I love Sheila, but that black girl was better in the part. She nailed Anne’s naiveté—I could see why a girl like that would fall for Richard.”
'That black girl' was Cherise. She had performed in two productions at the Cathedral, in bit parts both times. I nodded thoughtfully as I considered her. She had the right sweetness for Anne and she could pull off her hardships without seeming maudlin. Besides, it was time to move her to bigger roles.
“Cherise will be Anne,” I said. “We’ll cast Sheila as Margaret.”
Sean grinned. “Sheila will be fuming—she hates Margaret.”
I shrugged. “She’ll survive. Besides, Margaret will allow her to be as regal and bitchy as she pleases.
“True,” Sean owned. “Let’s look at the smaller parts. The first and second murderer can double up for other parts. We might be able to double-up the kids as well…”
We spent the next two hours hammering out the cast. It was past midnight by the time we finished.
Sean glanced at the clock. “It’s late,” he said. “Mind if I crash here?”
I stared at him from across the table. He looked back at me with an expression of perfect innocence.
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you asking to sleep in the guest room?”
“Is that your best offer?” he retorted.
“I seem to remember us breaking up,” I pointed out.
He flashed me a guilty grin and then shamelessly started crooning. “I’m not talking `bout moving in,” he sang. “And I don’t want to change your life…”
I couldn’t help but smile at the old song. God damn him--he knew just how irresistible he was.
I stood up and held out my hand. “Let’s go upstairs,” I said softly.
LINK TO PART SEVEN: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-seven.html
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
“I want the part of Clarence,” Sean said. “If I can’t manipulate the audience as Richard, I want to make them shiver and cry as Clarence tells his dream.”
We were in my kitchen, exchanging thoughts on the casting. Sean was leaning back in his chair to the point that I was certain he would tip over. Somehow he managed to keep his balance as he lifted his feet and rested them on an empty seat.
“You’re Clarence,” I agreed, “although Jeremy wasn’t bad in that part.’
In addition to reading several scenes as Richard, I had Jeremy audition for other parts. I could guess that he felt a personal connection with Richard, but I wanted to see how he would handle other roles.
“Yeah, he really can act,” Sean said grudgingly. “But you have to use him as Richard.”
I smiled. “I know. But I want you to understudy Richard—we don’t know how reliable Jeremy is.”
Sean understood what I left unsaid. We didn't know if Jeremy's cerebral palsy would interfere with his commitment to the production. Neither of us knew enough about his condition to judge.
Sean nodded. “Yeah, I'll understudy Richard. That goes without saying. Mind if I light up?” he asked, reaching for his coat.
“Yes,” I said.
“Yes, I can light up or yes, you mind?”
“Yes, I mind.”
He rolled his eyes and leaned back again. “What about Lady Anne?” he asked, changing the subject. “I love Sheila, but that black girl was better in the part. She nailed Anne’s naiveté—I could see why a girl like that would fall for Richard.”
'That black girl' was Cherise. She had performed in two productions at the Cathedral, in bit parts both times. I nodded thoughtfully as I considered her. She had the right sweetness for Anne and she could pull off her hardships without seeming maudlin. Besides, it was time to move her to bigger roles.
“Cherise will be Anne,” I said. “We’ll cast Sheila as Margaret.”
Sean grinned. “Sheila will be fuming—she hates Margaret.”
I shrugged. “She’ll survive. Besides, Margaret will allow her to be as regal and bitchy as she pleases.
“True,” Sean owned. “Let’s look at the smaller parts. The first and second murderer can double up for other parts. We might be able to double-up the kids as well…”
We spent the next two hours hammering out the cast. It was past midnight by the time we finished.
Sean glanced at the clock. “It’s late,” he said. “Mind if I crash here?”
I stared at him from across the table. He looked back at me with an expression of perfect innocence.
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you asking to sleep in the guest room?”
“Is that your best offer?” he retorted.
“I seem to remember us breaking up,” I pointed out.
He flashed me a guilty grin and then shamelessly started crooning. “I’m not talking `bout moving in,” he sang. “And I don’t want to change your life…”
I couldn’t help but smile at the old song. God damn him--he knew just how irresistible he was.
I stood up and held out my hand. “Let’s go upstairs,” I said softly.
LINK TO PART SEVEN: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-seven.html
Thursday, December 20, 2007
My Shadow in the Sun, Part Five
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I stayed by the table as Jeremy walked to the center of the room. His gait was awkward, and not merely because of the cane he used. He seemed to be shaking as well.
He was all nerves, I realized. That didn't bode well for his audition. But that was for the best, wasn't it? With luck, he would give up his quest to play Richard and allow me to find him some bit part.
When he reached the center of the room, he took a moment to peer at me. His gaze was steady, even if his body still seemed to quake. I noticed that he didn't have a script with him: he knew these lines, at least, by heart.
I watched him take a deep breath as his face seemed to grimace. But that grimace became an amused sneer as he began:
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York,
And all the clouds that loured upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
He was speaking too fast, I noticed, and he wasn't projecting. But apart from that, he wasn't bad. I moved away from the table so that I could lean back against the wall as I watched him.
His voice grew stronger as he described the recent success of his older brother and the peace that was sweeping the land. He made sport of Edward as he insisted that warriors now had nothing better to do than to dance for the ladies to the seductive sound of the lute.
His face still had that grimace--but it didn't hurt him in the role. On the contrary, it seemed to sum up Richard's sneer. But then I noticed that he was drooling. This was no part of the act, I realized. This was courtesy of his cerebral palsy.
He noticed the drool himself at the same instant. He paused abruptly as he wiped it off his face. I could see that he was furious with himself. His cheeks turned scarlet and for a moment I thought he would stomp back to his seat, embarrassed and angry.
But he stayed put. He even managed to laugh off the drool and to stay in character as Richard described himself and explained why he wasn't made 'to court an amorous looking glass':
I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them--
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to see my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity.
He was still speaking too fast--my critical brain couldn't help but notice that. But that didn't matter. We could teach him to slow his words. But he was a natural when it came to playing up Richard's vulnerability and self-contempt.
The other actors treated Jeremy to a loud, encouraging round of applause as he finished. I was pretty sure they all knew that his disability was the real thing: Sheila would have seen to that. But there was no sympathy in this applause--it was strictly for his performance.
I don't think Jeremy realized that. He didn't know how to handle their appreciation--he just gave them a curt nod and then limped back to his seat, keeping his eyes on the floor as he walked.
I shook my head. Had he really been acting up there? Or did Jeremy understand Richard's failings because of his own wounded pride?
Sean must have had the same thought. Suddenly he was at my side, whispering into my ear. "He's either brilliant or he's got a chip on his shoulder as big as Richard's," he said.
"That's true," I muttered back. "But does it matter which it is? If he can keep this up, Sean, I'll have to take him. I'm not going to turn away someone who knows first-hand what it's like to deal with Richard's handicaps."
Sean sighed but at length he nodded. "I know. I'll even help you work with him. Let's hope we can slow him down and teach him to project."
I knew what it cost Sean to make that offer--he rarely gave up a lead role without a fight. I smiled at him and put my arm around his shoulders. "Thank you," I said.
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he returned. "Save it until we figure out just what we're dealing with."
LINK TO PART SIX: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-six.html
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I stayed by the table as Jeremy walked to the center of the room. His gait was awkward, and not merely because of the cane he used. He seemed to be shaking as well.
He was all nerves, I realized. That didn't bode well for his audition. But that was for the best, wasn't it? With luck, he would give up his quest to play Richard and allow me to find him some bit part.
When he reached the center of the room, he took a moment to peer at me. His gaze was steady, even if his body still seemed to quake. I noticed that he didn't have a script with him: he knew these lines, at least, by heart.
I watched him take a deep breath as his face seemed to grimace. But that grimace became an amused sneer as he began:
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York,
And all the clouds that loured upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
He was speaking too fast, I noticed, and he wasn't projecting. But apart from that, he wasn't bad. I moved away from the table so that I could lean back against the wall as I watched him.
His voice grew stronger as he described the recent success of his older brother and the peace that was sweeping the land. He made sport of Edward as he insisted that warriors now had nothing better to do than to dance for the ladies to the seductive sound of the lute.
His face still had that grimace--but it didn't hurt him in the role. On the contrary, it seemed to sum up Richard's sneer. But then I noticed that he was drooling. This was no part of the act, I realized. This was courtesy of his cerebral palsy.
He noticed the drool himself at the same instant. He paused abruptly as he wiped it off his face. I could see that he was furious with himself. His cheeks turned scarlet and for a moment I thought he would stomp back to his seat, embarrassed and angry.
But he stayed put. He even managed to laugh off the drool and to stay in character as Richard described himself and explained why he wasn't made 'to court an amorous looking glass':
I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them--
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to see my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity.
He was still speaking too fast--my critical brain couldn't help but notice that. But that didn't matter. We could teach him to slow his words. But he was a natural when it came to playing up Richard's vulnerability and self-contempt.
The other actors treated Jeremy to a loud, encouraging round of applause as he finished. I was pretty sure they all knew that his disability was the real thing: Sheila would have seen to that. But there was no sympathy in this applause--it was strictly for his performance.
I don't think Jeremy realized that. He didn't know how to handle their appreciation--he just gave them a curt nod and then limped back to his seat, keeping his eyes on the floor as he walked.
I shook my head. Had he really been acting up there? Or did Jeremy understand Richard's failings because of his own wounded pride?
Sean must have had the same thought. Suddenly he was at my side, whispering into my ear. "He's either brilliant or he's got a chip on his shoulder as big as Richard's," he said.
"That's true," I muttered back. "But does it matter which it is? If he can keep this up, Sean, I'll have to take him. I'm not going to turn away someone who knows first-hand what it's like to deal with Richard's handicaps."
Sean sighed but at length he nodded. "I know. I'll even help you work with him. Let's hope we can slow him down and teach him to project."
I knew what it cost Sean to make that offer--he rarely gave up a lead role without a fight. I smiled at him and put my arm around his shoulders. "Thank you," I said.
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he returned. "Save it until we figure out just what we're dealing with."
LINK TO PART SIX: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-six.html
My Shadow in the Sun, Part Four
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
Our theatre was actually a defunct church. It was a gothic-style stone structure--a monstrosity, really, but impressive in a vulgar sort of way. People referred to it as ‘The Cathedral,’ despite the fact that no bishop had ever sat here. In fact, the church had belonged to one of the Protestant denominations that doesn‘t acknowledge bishops.
No matter. The church was perfect for our purposes and the nickname suited our sense of grandeur.
We decided to hold the auditions in the reception hall. Sean, Sheila and I got there early so that we could clear out the tables and chairs in order to make space. We left a few chairs scattered about, and one table for a coffee pot and a sign-in sheet, but otherwise the room was bare.
I grabbed one of the chairs, turned it around and sat on it so that I could lean my elbows on the back of it. I glanced at the clock--people should be arriving any minute.
“Why don’t you two get started,” I said. “Sean, you take Richard’s part and Sheila you take Anne’s--start the seduction scene.”
Sean nodded and turned to Sheila with a wolfish grin. "I'll make you fall for me in earnest," he promised as he winked at her.
"Remember that Richard is no pretty boy," she reminded him as she reached out and playfully chucked his scruffy chin. "You can't use your usual tricks."
He bowed in acknowledgement as he picked up two scripts. He handed her one of them and then gave me a questioning look.
"Take it from Richard's words: Stay, you that bear the corse," I told him. "I'll read the gentlemen's lines."
Sean nodded and positioned himself so that he was ready to burst in on 'Anne' and the men escorting her father-in-law's corpse. Sheila, meanwhile, prepared to look at 'Richard' with regal contempt.
This was little more than a warm-up--we all knew that. Everyone would be reading multiple parts so that we could get a sense of the chemistry between the different actors.
Sean didn't bother playing out Richard's hunched back or lame leg. There would be time for that later--I was more concerned with his voice and his face at the moment.
He struck just the right note for Richard: his commands to the men were abrupt and pointed, but he spoke respectfully to Anne. At times he would let her hear the longing in his voice--and the repentance for his bloody past--but then he would tease her as he turned her words against her. He was drawing Anne to him with consummate skill and there could be little doubt of the outcome. It was a captivating performance.
I was less satisfied with Sheila. She was competent as Anne, but I thought her almost too regal for the part. Perhaps I should try her as Margaret...
The room was filling up now, as other actors tramped in. They started out laughing and talking, but quieted to whispers as they took in Sean and Sheila's performance. Sean knew how to hold a crowd.
I stopped him just before he could rip his shirt open and urge Anne to stab him with his sword. There was a round of applause for the performance and both he and Sheila took a bow. I smiled and looked around at the newcomers.
There was only one person I didn't recognize: a young man with a pronounced limp and slightly uneven shoulders stood uncertainly at the back of the room. He was leaning on a cane as he looked about for a chair, but they were all taken. Most folks were sitting on the floor, but I frowned as I realized that might be problem for him.
Fortunately Mario, one of our old hands, realized it as well. He casually vacated his own chair as he announced that he was going in search of a few more. Then he disappeared into the small storage room where we had stacked them. I breathed a sigh of relief.
But the stranger wasn't fooled. He stood there for a moment, as if debating whether he should accept the courtesy or struggle to the floor. At length I saw him shrug and take the chair.
So, this was Mrs. David's son. I had to force myself not to stare at him--he certainly had the look of Shakespeare's Richard III. But no, that wasn't fair. He was attractive, despite his mild deformities. I glanced at him again. If it weren't for a certain hardness in his hazel eyes, I'd have called him pretty.
Well, it was time to find out if he could act. I stood up and walked over to the table with the sign-in sheet. I took a moment to peruse the names as everyone began talking again.
His name was the last on the list: Jeremy David. I stared at it for a moment and then reached a decision. I wasn't going to feel sorry for him because of his handicaps. And I wasn't going to make this easy for him--I wanted to discover right away if he was worth my time or effort.
"Jeremy David?" I called out, turning around.
He raised his hand.
"You're up," I told him. "Start with Richard's opening soliloquy."
LINK TO PART FIVE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-five.html
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
Our theatre was actually a defunct church. It was a gothic-style stone structure--a monstrosity, really, but impressive in a vulgar sort of way. People referred to it as ‘The Cathedral,’ despite the fact that no bishop had ever sat here. In fact, the church had belonged to one of the Protestant denominations that doesn‘t acknowledge bishops.
No matter. The church was perfect for our purposes and the nickname suited our sense of grandeur.
We decided to hold the auditions in the reception hall. Sean, Sheila and I got there early so that we could clear out the tables and chairs in order to make space. We left a few chairs scattered about, and one table for a coffee pot and a sign-in sheet, but otherwise the room was bare.
I grabbed one of the chairs, turned it around and sat on it so that I could lean my elbows on the back of it. I glanced at the clock--people should be arriving any minute.
“Why don’t you two get started,” I said. “Sean, you take Richard’s part and Sheila you take Anne’s--start the seduction scene.”
Sean nodded and turned to Sheila with a wolfish grin. "I'll make you fall for me in earnest," he promised as he winked at her.
"Remember that Richard is no pretty boy," she reminded him as she reached out and playfully chucked his scruffy chin. "You can't use your usual tricks."
He bowed in acknowledgement as he picked up two scripts. He handed her one of them and then gave me a questioning look.
"Take it from Richard's words: Stay, you that bear the corse," I told him. "I'll read the gentlemen's lines."
Sean nodded and positioned himself so that he was ready to burst in on 'Anne' and the men escorting her father-in-law's corpse. Sheila, meanwhile, prepared to look at 'Richard' with regal contempt.
This was little more than a warm-up--we all knew that. Everyone would be reading multiple parts so that we could get a sense of the chemistry between the different actors.
Sean didn't bother playing out Richard's hunched back or lame leg. There would be time for that later--I was more concerned with his voice and his face at the moment.
He struck just the right note for Richard: his commands to the men were abrupt and pointed, but he spoke respectfully to Anne. At times he would let her hear the longing in his voice--and the repentance for his bloody past--but then he would tease her as he turned her words against her. He was drawing Anne to him with consummate skill and there could be little doubt of the outcome. It was a captivating performance.
I was less satisfied with Sheila. She was competent as Anne, but I thought her almost too regal for the part. Perhaps I should try her as Margaret...
The room was filling up now, as other actors tramped in. They started out laughing and talking, but quieted to whispers as they took in Sean and Sheila's performance. Sean knew how to hold a crowd.
I stopped him just before he could rip his shirt open and urge Anne to stab him with his sword. There was a round of applause for the performance and both he and Sheila took a bow. I smiled and looked around at the newcomers.
There was only one person I didn't recognize: a young man with a pronounced limp and slightly uneven shoulders stood uncertainly at the back of the room. He was leaning on a cane as he looked about for a chair, but they were all taken. Most folks were sitting on the floor, but I frowned as I realized that might be problem for him.
Fortunately Mario, one of our old hands, realized it as well. He casually vacated his own chair as he announced that he was going in search of a few more. Then he disappeared into the small storage room where we had stacked them. I breathed a sigh of relief.
But the stranger wasn't fooled. He stood there for a moment, as if debating whether he should accept the courtesy or struggle to the floor. At length I saw him shrug and take the chair.
So, this was Mrs. David's son. I had to force myself not to stare at him--he certainly had the look of Shakespeare's Richard III. But no, that wasn't fair. He was attractive, despite his mild deformities. I glanced at him again. If it weren't for a certain hardness in his hazel eyes, I'd have called him pretty.
Well, it was time to find out if he could act. I stood up and walked over to the table with the sign-in sheet. I took a moment to peruse the names as everyone began talking again.
His name was the last on the list: Jeremy David. I stared at it for a moment and then reached a decision. I wasn't going to feel sorry for him because of his handicaps. And I wasn't going to make this easy for him--I wanted to discover right away if he was worth my time or effort.
"Jeremy David?" I called out, turning around.
He raised his hand.
"You're up," I told him. "Start with Richard's opening soliloquy."
LINK TO PART FIVE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-five.html
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
~Challenge Stories~
~Challenge One: The Nimoy-Urban Missing Scene~
Back in the Day by J. Rosemary Moss
Crossing the Line by Igiveup
Name Calling by Ster Julie
Second Chances by Queezbrella
Starting Over by Liederlady
What Shall Separate Us? by Mary Chodan (aka Womanwarrior)
~Challenge Two: In Dr. McCoy's Office~
Darkness and Silence by Liederlady
Passive-Aggressive Release by Ster Julie
Back in the Day by J. Rosemary Moss
Crossing the Line by Igiveup
Name Calling by Ster Julie
Second Chances by Queezbrella
Starting Over by Liederlady
What Shall Separate Us? by Mary Chodan (aka Womanwarrior)
~Challenge Two: In Dr. McCoy's Office~
Darkness and Silence by Liederlady
Passive-Aggressive Release by Ster Julie
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
My Shadow in the Sun, Part Three
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I was still furious as I swam laps the next morning. I had the pool to myself; no one else in the gym bothered with it at this hour. I was grateful for that--there was no one to witness me pouring my anger into each stroke.
By the time I was halfway into my routine I was more focused on streamlining my form than on Mrs. David’s unknown son. The rhythm of my muscles pushing and pulling my body, helping it glide through the water, took the edge off my rage.
Once I climbed out of the pool, I was more sour than angry. I smiled suddenly, thinking of Sheila. She never missed an opportunity to poke fun of my time at the gym. She thought me a typical, self-absorbed gay man, always worried about my physique.
Well, there was some truth to that. I was proud--justifiably, I thought--of my swimmer’s body. I took care of myself and wanted the world to know it. By the same token, I wanted a partner who treated his body well. That’s part of what caused the break up between Sean and me.
Don’t mistake me--Sean's dirty blond hair and scruffy, devilish face will always turn my head. But he has no interest in taking care of himself. He drinks too much, he smokes and the concept of a ‘gym’ is utterly foreign to him.
He used to hate getting up at an ungodly hour just to go for a swim with me--and I hated staying out all night clubbing with him. It didn't take us long to figure out that we made better friends than lovers.
I pushed those thoughts aside as I climbed out of the pool. Sean would always linger in my mind, but I knew our break-up was for the best.
I felt better after the swim. In fact, I had mellowed considerably by the time I stepped into my office. That’s when Sheila chose to call me again--she has impeccable timing.
“Hey,” she said as I picked up the phone. “I’ve got some more info on Mrs. David’s mysterious son. Are you sitting down?”
I cringed. “No. Should I be?”
“Yes,” she said.
I sighed and collapsed into my swivel chair. “Ok,” I said. “Do your worst.”
“He’s disabled,” she said.
It took me a moment to absorb that. “Disabled how?”
“He has cerebral palsy. I don’t know how severe it is--but I know it’s the reason his mother didn’t send him to public school with us.”
I inhaled at that and furrowed my brow. “I don’t know much about cerebral palsy,” I admitted as I turned my computer on and fingered the keyboard.
“Neither do I,” she owned. “In Jeremy’s case--oh, that’s his name--it affects his control over his body somehow. He doesn’t have the right muscle coordination.”
I tried to imagine how that might translate. “Can he walk?” I asked. “Is he in a wheelchair?”
“I don’t think he’s in a wheelchair,” she said. “I think he’s--I think he’s just awkward. At the very least, I know that one of his legs is shorter than the other.”
As my computer hummed to life I typed `cerebral palsy’ into the search engine. “Sheila,” I said in a warning tone, “I’m sorry for the guy, but I’m not going to give him the part out of sympathy.”
“I know,” she said. “I’m telling you this for your own sake--when you see him limp into auditions, don’t think it’s just an act to show how well he can portray Richard-the-lame-hunchback.”
She had a point--that would have been an embarrassing and insulting error.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Your welcome,” she said. “And Rob, don’t set yourself against this guy. Give him a chance.”
I sighed, remembering my determination to give him a bit part. “Very well,” I said. “I’ll see how does in the audition. But I won’t give him the role unless he can out-act Sean.”
“Hrmmmph,” she said. “I wonder if I can convince Sean not to try out for the part…”
I grinned, thinking of Sean's ego. “Good luck on that.”
LINK TO PART FOUR: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-four.html
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I was still furious as I swam laps the next morning. I had the pool to myself; no one else in the gym bothered with it at this hour. I was grateful for that--there was no one to witness me pouring my anger into each stroke.
By the time I was halfway into my routine I was more focused on streamlining my form than on Mrs. David’s unknown son. The rhythm of my muscles pushing and pulling my body, helping it glide through the water, took the edge off my rage.
Once I climbed out of the pool, I was more sour than angry. I smiled suddenly, thinking of Sheila. She never missed an opportunity to poke fun of my time at the gym. She thought me a typical, self-absorbed gay man, always worried about my physique.
Well, there was some truth to that. I was proud--justifiably, I thought--of my swimmer’s body. I took care of myself and wanted the world to know it. By the same token, I wanted a partner who treated his body well. That’s part of what caused the break up between Sean and me.
Don’t mistake me--Sean's dirty blond hair and scruffy, devilish face will always turn my head. But he has no interest in taking care of himself. He drinks too much, he smokes and the concept of a ‘gym’ is utterly foreign to him.
He used to hate getting up at an ungodly hour just to go for a swim with me--and I hated staying out all night clubbing with him. It didn't take us long to figure out that we made better friends than lovers.
I pushed those thoughts aside as I climbed out of the pool. Sean would always linger in my mind, but I knew our break-up was for the best.
I felt better after the swim. In fact, I had mellowed considerably by the time I stepped into my office. That’s when Sheila chose to call me again--she has impeccable timing.
“Hey,” she said as I picked up the phone. “I’ve got some more info on Mrs. David’s mysterious son. Are you sitting down?”
I cringed. “No. Should I be?”
“Yes,” she said.
I sighed and collapsed into my swivel chair. “Ok,” I said. “Do your worst.”
“He’s disabled,” she said.
It took me a moment to absorb that. “Disabled how?”
“He has cerebral palsy. I don’t know how severe it is--but I know it’s the reason his mother didn’t send him to public school with us.”
I inhaled at that and furrowed my brow. “I don’t know much about cerebral palsy,” I admitted as I turned my computer on and fingered the keyboard.
“Neither do I,” she owned. “In Jeremy’s case--oh, that’s his name--it affects his control over his body somehow. He doesn’t have the right muscle coordination.”
I tried to imagine how that might translate. “Can he walk?” I asked. “Is he in a wheelchair?”
“I don’t think he’s in a wheelchair,” she said. “I think he’s--I think he’s just awkward. At the very least, I know that one of his legs is shorter than the other.”
As my computer hummed to life I typed `cerebral palsy’ into the search engine. “Sheila,” I said in a warning tone, “I’m sorry for the guy, but I’m not going to give him the part out of sympathy.”
“I know,” she said. “I’m telling you this for your own sake--when you see him limp into auditions, don’t think it’s just an act to show how well he can portray Richard-the-lame-hunchback.”
She had a point--that would have been an embarrassing and insulting error.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Your welcome,” she said. “And Rob, don’t set yourself against this guy. Give him a chance.”
I sighed, remembering my determination to give him a bit part. “Very well,” I said. “I’ll see how does in the audition. But I won’t give him the role unless he can out-act Sean.”
“Hrmmmph,” she said. “I wonder if I can convince Sean not to try out for the part…”
I grinned, thinking of Sean's ego. “Good luck on that.”
LINK TO PART FOUR: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-four.html
My Shadow in the Sun, Part Two
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I took Sheila's advice. As soon as I was home, I uncorked an old bottle of port and poured myself a glass. Then I strode into my living room and collapsed into a recliner.
I loosened my tie and kicked off my shoes as my body sank into the cushions. The next thing I knew, sixteen pounds of cat sprang up from the floor and landed on my lap with a thud.
"Good evening, Jack Falstaff," I said, grinning as I began to stroke the animal with my free hand.
He was a handsome fellow: he had a black coat with liberal white markings on his face, neck, belly, paws and tail. He looked as if he was wearing a tuxedo. I liked to think that we were similar in appearance. His black fur matched my hair and his pale blue eyes were the same color as my own. But that's where the resemblance ended. Falstaff, like his namesake, was a plump fellow. I had more of a lean and hungry look.
I took another sip of port as my eyes strayed over my bookshelves. My Shakespeare collection was front and center, but there was also a shelf devoted to the War of the Roses and a few books on Richard III himself.
I sighed and raised my glass to the last Plantagenet king. "I'm sorry, my friend," I said. "I don't think you were the villain that Shakespeare portrays. That's just Tudor slander. But no sense blaming Will--he had to live under a Tudor queen, after all."
I took a long swallow of port this time before setting the glass down. Then I put my hands behind my head and started thinking about the play. Should we edit it? Not to question Shakespeare's brilliance, but did he have to give Margaret so many lines? We could cut a few...
My cell phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. Falstaff shifted his weight as I pulled the phone out of my pocket and peered at the number. It was Sheila.
I flipped the phone open. "What's up?" I asked, bringing it to my ear."
Did you know that Sean is dating again?" she demanded.
I rolled my eyes. "Sean was dating again the night we broke up."
"That bastard!"
I raised my eyebrows at the passion in her voice. "Ah, not really," I assured her. "I didn't mind--it was an amicable parting."
"Damn," she said. "I was hoping you'd be furious."
I furrowed my brow at that. "Why?" I asked. "Did you want me to be heart-broken?"
"Ah, no," she answered cautiously. "But if you were furious with him, it would make it easier to reject him for the part of Richard."
"Why would I want to reject him?" I asked. "I won't make up my mind till the auditions, but I think he'll be a good match for the part. Besides, he's the best actor we have."
"I know," Sheila said. "But--well, here's the thing. I just spoke with my sister. She knows Mrs. David pretty well: they're on the same committees at our synagogue. And she says that Mrs. David has a son--a son that she thinks will be perfect for the part."
I clenched the phone as I took that in. "Mrs. David wants her son to play Richard III?"
"That's what my sister says."
"God damn it," I said. "Is that the price of her donation?"
"Well, no," Sheila said. "We already have the money, after all. And we already agreed to mount the play--that fills our end of the deal. But if she donated once, she might donate again..."
"If her son gets the lead," I said.
"Just so," she agreed.
Sheila fell silent, giving me time to fume. I already had my arm twisted over mounting this damned production. I didn't appreciate being handed a Richard I had never even met.
"Who is her son?" I asked abruptly. "Does anyone know him?"
"No," Sheila owned. "And that's odd, isn't it? He's thirty-two: our age. And he grew up in town. He should have been in school with us."
"He must have gone to a private school," I said. "Do you know him from your synagogue?"
"God no--I hardly know anyone there," she confessed. "I only go on the High Holy Days."
"Does he have any acting experience?"
"I don't know, Rob. But look, we are a community theatre," she reminded me. "Anyone can audition. Let's just see how he does."
I groaned. "You think that as long as he's half-way decent I should give him the part, don't you?"
"I do," she said. "Rob, you know the state of our finances. You know how hard it is to stay in the black--"
"And what if Sean can act circles around him?"
There was a long pause before she answered. "Sean is committed to our theatre," she said at last. "He knows we need the money."
I didn't answer that--I just hung up the phone in disgust. Sheila didn't bother calling me back. She had enough sense to give me some space.
She was right, of course. We did need any future donations Mrs. David might choose to bestow upon us. And Sean would understand. But I was loathe to let Mrs. David or anyone else run our productions. And I already despised her son.
I glared up at the ceiling. In deference to his mother's generosity, I'd find some bit part for this guy. But now I was determined to see Sean play Richard.
LINK TO PART THREE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-three.html
Genre: Slash Fiction
Rating: Mature Content
LINK TO PART ONE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun.html
~
I took Sheila's advice. As soon as I was home, I uncorked an old bottle of port and poured myself a glass. Then I strode into my living room and collapsed into a recliner.
I loosened my tie and kicked off my shoes as my body sank into the cushions. The next thing I knew, sixteen pounds of cat sprang up from the floor and landed on my lap with a thud.
"Good evening, Jack Falstaff," I said, grinning as I began to stroke the animal with my free hand.
He was a handsome fellow: he had a black coat with liberal white markings on his face, neck, belly, paws and tail. He looked as if he was wearing a tuxedo. I liked to think that we were similar in appearance. His black fur matched my hair and his pale blue eyes were the same color as my own. But that's where the resemblance ended. Falstaff, like his namesake, was a plump fellow. I had more of a lean and hungry look.
I took another sip of port as my eyes strayed over my bookshelves. My Shakespeare collection was front and center, but there was also a shelf devoted to the War of the Roses and a few books on Richard III himself.
I sighed and raised my glass to the last Plantagenet king. "I'm sorry, my friend," I said. "I don't think you were the villain that Shakespeare portrays. That's just Tudor slander. But no sense blaming Will--he had to live under a Tudor queen, after all."
I took a long swallow of port this time before setting the glass down. Then I put my hands behind my head and started thinking about the play. Should we edit it? Not to question Shakespeare's brilliance, but did he have to give Margaret so many lines? We could cut a few...
My cell phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. Falstaff shifted his weight as I pulled the phone out of my pocket and peered at the number. It was Sheila.
I flipped the phone open. "What's up?" I asked, bringing it to my ear."
Did you know that Sean is dating again?" she demanded.
I rolled my eyes. "Sean was dating again the night we broke up."
"That bastard!"
I raised my eyebrows at the passion in her voice. "Ah, not really," I assured her. "I didn't mind--it was an amicable parting."
"Damn," she said. "I was hoping you'd be furious."
I furrowed my brow at that. "Why?" I asked. "Did you want me to be heart-broken?"
"Ah, no," she answered cautiously. "But if you were furious with him, it would make it easier to reject him for the part of Richard."
"Why would I want to reject him?" I asked. "I won't make up my mind till the auditions, but I think he'll be a good match for the part. Besides, he's the best actor we have."
"I know," Sheila said. "But--well, here's the thing. I just spoke with my sister. She knows Mrs. David pretty well: they're on the same committees at our synagogue. And she says that Mrs. David has a son--a son that she thinks will be perfect for the part."
I clenched the phone as I took that in. "Mrs. David wants her son to play Richard III?"
"That's what my sister says."
"God damn it," I said. "Is that the price of her donation?"
"Well, no," Sheila said. "We already have the money, after all. And we already agreed to mount the play--that fills our end of the deal. But if she donated once, she might donate again..."
"If her son gets the lead," I said.
"Just so," she agreed.
Sheila fell silent, giving me time to fume. I already had my arm twisted over mounting this damned production. I didn't appreciate being handed a Richard I had never even met.
"Who is her son?" I asked abruptly. "Does anyone know him?"
"No," Sheila owned. "And that's odd, isn't it? He's thirty-two: our age. And he grew up in town. He should have been in school with us."
"He must have gone to a private school," I said. "Do you know him from your synagogue?"
"God no--I hardly know anyone there," she confessed. "I only go on the High Holy Days."
"Does he have any acting experience?"
"I don't know, Rob. But look, we are a community theatre," she reminded me. "Anyone can audition. Let's just see how he does."
I groaned. "You think that as long as he's half-way decent I should give him the part, don't you?"
"I do," she said. "Rob, you know the state of our finances. You know how hard it is to stay in the black--"
"And what if Sean can act circles around him?"
There was a long pause before she answered. "Sean is committed to our theatre," she said at last. "He knows we need the money."
I didn't answer that--I just hung up the phone in disgust. Sheila didn't bother calling me back. She had enough sense to give me some space.
She was right, of course. We did need any future donations Mrs. David might choose to bestow upon us. And Sean would understand. But I was loathe to let Mrs. David or anyone else run our productions. And I already despised her son.
I glared up at the ceiling. In deference to his mother's generosity, I'd find some bit part for this guy. But now I was determined to see Sean play Richard.
LINK TO PART THREE: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-three.html
Monday, December 17, 2007
Sherlock Holmes Fan Fiction
A Distant Port (WIP; PG-13; Slash; Star Trek Crossover) Ok, I once read a joking list of Holmes-Watson conventions. It was stolen from a Kirk-Spock list, so it said something like "Does Dr. McCoy bring them together? Wait--wrong fandom!" But I'm going with that...
A Masterful Performance (Complete; PG; Slash) Holmes tracks down the young man who played him for a fool in A Study in Scarlet...
A Private Crime (Complete; PG; Slash) Watson resorts to a drastic declaration to distract Holmes from the needle...
A Useful Tool~(Complete; G) In my first Sherlock Holmes drabble--a regular, 100 word drabble, I'm afraid; not a 221B special!--Watson finds himself scandalized by his friend's ruthlessness...This takes place during The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.
The Unwitting Pawn (Complete; PG; Slash) In the aftermath of The Adventure of the Dying Detective, Watson reflects upon his friend's ruthless nature—and what it has cost both men.
A Masterful Performance (Complete; PG; Slash) Holmes tracks down the young man who played him for a fool in A Study in Scarlet...
A Private Crime (Complete; PG; Slash) Watson resorts to a drastic declaration to distract Holmes from the needle...
A Useful Tool~(Complete; G) In my first Sherlock Holmes drabble--a regular, 100 word drabble, I'm afraid; not a 221B special!--Watson finds himself scandalized by his friend's ruthlessness...This takes place during The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.
The Unwitting Pawn (Complete; PG; Slash) In the aftermath of The Adventure of the Dying Detective, Watson reflects upon his friend's ruthless nature—and what it has cost both men.
My Shadow in the Sun, Part One
by J. Rosemary Moss
Genre: Original Slash
Rating: PG-13
~
That play. That's how I thought of it in my head.
It's based on history, but it's full of lies and propaganda. I had no mind to participate in it—let alone direct it.
In truth, any Shakespeare was a tall order for our tiny volunteer theatre. But Mrs. David—an imposing, determined woman who put me in mind of Lady Macbeth—had given us an enormous donation, at least by our standards. And all she asked in return was that we mount a production of Richard III.
We took the money. There was never any question about that. And then we sat down to a brief meeting in which I was given free reign to direct. No one else wanted to touch the project—everyone deferred to my knowledge of the Bard.
I swore under my breath. The other board members—all eight of them—were well aware of my feelings. They all got a kick out of congratulating me.
Have I mentioned that I hate that play?
"Don't worry, Rob," Sheila told me as she sidled up to me on the way to the parking lot. "You'll do a brilliant job directing."
I glared at her. "You know my feelings on Richard III. Couldn't you have put someone else forward?"
"No," she said frankly. "You're our best choice."
Damn Sheila--she made it impossible to remain angry. But I still managed a frown. "Thank you," I said. "But have you thought about the cast? There are only two decent roles for men: Richard himself and his brother Clarence. And there are no good roles for women."
"I'm going to audition for Lady Anne," she said, taking my arm. "Poor pathetic thing, falling for a monster like Richard. But I like a bad boy myself—I can sympathize with her."
I grinned at that. It was hard to imagine a sophisticated woman like Sheila playing someone as gullible as Anne. "Even you wouldn't fall for a bad boy who had killed off your husband and father-in-law," I pointed out.
"Oh, that depends on the husband and father-in-law," she assured me. "When will you hold auditions?"
I stopped walking and peered down at her, considering. We had agreed to make Richard III our first production next year. That gave us only three months to put it together.
"Early next week," I decided. "I'll send out an e-mail and put an add in the local papers."
She nodded and pulled her keys from her purse. "Good. Will this be a modern-dress production?"
I cringed. "I have no idea," I said. "I'll talk to Dana about costumes and figure it out."
She smiled up at me, her eyes alight with both sympathy and amusement. "Go home and crack open one of those good bottles of port you've been saving," she ordered. "And don't tie yourself in knots worrying--it will all work out."
I nodded, but I was by no means convinced. I knew it would take more than good port wine to reconcile me to that play.
LINK TO PART TWO: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-two.html
Genre: Original Slash
Rating: PG-13
~
That play. That's how I thought of it in my head.
It's based on history, but it's full of lies and propaganda. I had no mind to participate in it—let alone direct it.
In truth, any Shakespeare was a tall order for our tiny volunteer theatre. But Mrs. David—an imposing, determined woman who put me in mind of Lady Macbeth—had given us an enormous donation, at least by our standards. And all she asked in return was that we mount a production of Richard III.
We took the money. There was never any question about that. And then we sat down to a brief meeting in which I was given free reign to direct. No one else wanted to touch the project—everyone deferred to my knowledge of the Bard.
I swore under my breath. The other board members—all eight of them—were well aware of my feelings. They all got a kick out of congratulating me.
Have I mentioned that I hate that play?
"Don't worry, Rob," Sheila told me as she sidled up to me on the way to the parking lot. "You'll do a brilliant job directing."
I glared at her. "You know my feelings on Richard III. Couldn't you have put someone else forward?"
"No," she said frankly. "You're our best choice."
Damn Sheila--she made it impossible to remain angry. But I still managed a frown. "Thank you," I said. "But have you thought about the cast? There are only two decent roles for men: Richard himself and his brother Clarence. And there are no good roles for women."
"I'm going to audition for Lady Anne," she said, taking my arm. "Poor pathetic thing, falling for a monster like Richard. But I like a bad boy myself—I can sympathize with her."
I grinned at that. It was hard to imagine a sophisticated woman like Sheila playing someone as gullible as Anne. "Even you wouldn't fall for a bad boy who had killed off your husband and father-in-law," I pointed out.
"Oh, that depends on the husband and father-in-law," she assured me. "When will you hold auditions?"
I stopped walking and peered down at her, considering. We had agreed to make Richard III our first production next year. That gave us only three months to put it together.
"Early next week," I decided. "I'll send out an e-mail and put an add in the local papers."
She nodded and pulled her keys from her purse. "Good. Will this be a modern-dress production?"
I cringed. "I have no idea," I said. "I'll talk to Dana about costumes and figure it out."
She smiled up at me, her eyes alight with both sympathy and amusement. "Go home and crack open one of those good bottles of port you've been saving," she ordered. "And don't tie yourself in knots worrying--it will all work out."
I nodded, but I was by no means convinced. I knew it would take more than good port wine to reconcile me to that play.
LINK TO PART TWO: http://jrosemary.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-shadow-in-sun-part-two.html
~Story Index~
Fan Fiction
(My Fanfiction.net Page)
~Batman~
Feline Desperation (WIP; R) Bruce Wayne guesses the secret that his mistress, Selina Kyle, has been hiding. But is the notorious Catwoman just a cat burglar--or do her tastes run to murder?
~Bonanza~
A Brotherly Love (Complete; PG-13) Adam has his hands full with a drunk and disorderly Little Joe in the aftermath of The Quality of Mercy.
A Hogshead of Whiskey~(Complete; PG-13) Whiskey loosens Adam's tongue one night and he opens up to Little Joe, giving us a glimpse into his uneven relationship with Joe's mother, Marie.
A Pair of Black Eyes~(Complete; PG) Little Joe falls hard for a black-eyed beauty--but his crush turns to contempt as she ensnares him in her schemes...
A Moonlight Serenade~(Complete; G;) This piece shows my geekdom. It explores what would happen if Adam, Hoss and Little Joe could hop on line and play World of Warcraft. Don't worry if you've never played, you'll still be able to follow right along...
Better Loved~(Complete; PG) Adam risks an interracial romance with a charming young woman from New Orleans. But she's already familiar with him--and his step mother Marie. (This is the 2nd part of the series that begins with A Hogshead of Whiskey, but it will stand alone.)
Fare Thee Well~(Complete; PG-13) Adam continues his interracial romance with Charlotte, which brings trouble to Little Joe and sparks some old memories. This story is a continuation of A Hogshead of Whiskey and Better Loved--but it will stand alone (more or less.)
For Want of a Brother~(Complete; PG-13) Adam has to bring a young man to justice--a young man who's becoming uncomfortably like a little brother...
Miss Austen~(Complete; G) Joe is so bored that out of desperation he turns to one of Adam's books...
Tara at Dusk~(Complete; PG) A chance encounter with a little runaway leads Adam to the girl's mother--Scarlett O'Hara. Adam soon finds himself falling for the green-eyed vixen in this Gone With The Wind crossover.
The Cunning Escape~(Complete; G) Three critters who strongly resemble Adam, Hoss and Little Joe tumble into trouble when they escape from their cage...
The Eyes of the Wind~(Complete; PG) Adam has to rely on his enemy in the wake of a stagecoach wreck. This story is the prequel to For Want of a Brother, but it will stand alone.
The Green Bottle~(Complete; G) Little Joe learns that there are times when you just can't trust your older brother...
The Monstrosity~(WIP; R) Adam confonts his demons with the help of a man he once counted as an enemy--Drew Clayton. This story is the sequel to The Eyes of the Wind, which, in turn, is the prequel to For Want of a Brother. All three stories will stand alone.
The New Hand~(Complete; PG-13; Slash Fan Fiction) David Griffin rides onto the Ponderosa, flashes a charming smile and demands a job from Adam. Adam gives it to him, even though he knows that David has a score to settle with him. Best to keep your enemies close at hand...
The Silver Coin~(WIP; PG-13; Slash Fan Fiction) This story picks up right where The New Hand left off. Joe is becoming more and more attached to the poker tables--and David Griffin is the only one who notices. Even Adam is determined to make excuses for the kid...
Why Is This Night Different?~(Complete; G) This story is about three critters appropriately named after our Adam, Hoss and Little Joe. It's sort of a sequel to The Cunning Escape, but it will stand alone.
~Forgotten Realms~
The Serpent's Slave (WIP; PG; Forgotten Realms) A young man leaves his home, determined to forge his own path. I wrote it as the background story for a character that I never really got the chance to play...
~Sherlock Holmes~
A Distant Port (WIP; PG-13; Slash; Star Trek Crossover) Ok, I once read a joking list of Holmes-Watson conventions. It was stolen from a Kirk-Spock list, so it said something like "Does Dr. McCoy bring them together? Wait--wrong fandom!" But I'm going with that...
A Masterful Performance (Complete; PG; Slash) Holmes tracks down the young man who played him for a fool in A Study in Scarlet...
A Private Crime (Complete; PG; Slash) Watson resorts to a drastic declaration to distract Holmes from the needle...
A Useful Tool~(Complete; G) In my first Sherlock Holmes drabble--a regular, 100 word drabble, I'm afraid; not a 221B special!--Watson finds himself scandalized by his friend's ruthlessness...This takes place during The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.The
Unwitting Pawn~(Complete; PG; Slash) In the aftermath of The Adventure of the Dying Detective, Watson reflects upon his friend's ruthless nature—and what it has cost both men.
~Star Trek~
A Closed-Mouth Hobgoblin ~ (Complete: PG-13; Slash; Spock-McCoy) In this drabble, Bones is furious about a little secret Spock has kept...this takes place during the episode Journey to Babel.
A Fool and Her Feelings ~ (Complete: PG) A drabble taking place in the aftermath of The Enterprise Incident.
A Lion's Share of Courage ~ Complete. This one can only be found in the 'Zine Spiced Peaches, Issue XIV. In the Mirror Universe, Dr. McCoy is dying. Spock tends to him, but his thoughts are centered on the doctor's counterpart….This is a companion piece to Reflective Irony, Mirrored Courage, and A Subtle Bond, but it will stand alone.
A Remarkable Honor (Complete; PG; Spock-McCoy) In this drabble, McCoy reflects on the honor that Spock has bestowed upon him. This is set during Amok Time.
A Subtle Bond ~ (Complete: PG-13; Slash; Spock-McCoy) Kirk and Spock confront McCoy over just what happened between Bones and Spock's counterpart in the Mirror Universe. This is set in the aftermath of the episode Mirror, Mirror. It's a companion piece to Reflective Irony and Mirrored Courage, but it will stand alone.
A Touch of Diplomacy ~ (WIP: R; Slash; Kirk-Spock-McCoy) Kirk and Spock have a bad habit of underestimating Bones...
Complacency (TNG) ~ (Complete: G; Picard-Q) In this drabble, Picard reflects on the painful lesson Q has taught him in the episode Q Who.
Don't Ever Get Me Flowers (AOS; Star Trek XI) ~ (Complete; One-Shot; Slash; PG-13; Kirk-McCoy) Bones tries to put a little romance into a friends-with-benefits relationship.
Fractured Images ~ (Complete: R; Slash; Spock-McCoy) McCoy has a bone to pick with both our Spock and the Spock from the Mirror Universe...In theory, this one-shot can stand alone, but it's also a companion piece to Reflective Irony, Mirrored Courage, A Subtle Bond, A Lion's Share of Courage and The Horned Gate.
Further Study Needed ~ (Complete: PG; Spock-McCoy) Spock finds an intriguing new human to study…This is a slashy friendship-fic.
Lawful Obedience ~ (WIP: PG-13; Slash; Spock-McCoy) McCoy meets a man he has admired since childhood--but Spock remains unimpressed...
Love and Tofu ~ (Complete: PG; Slash; Spock-McCoy) In this drabble, McCoy shows his appreciation to Spock when the Vulcan attempts to celebrate an old American holiday with him.
Mirrored Courage ~ (Complete: PG; Slash; Spock-McCoy) Once again, I'm exploring the forced mind-meld that 'mirror' Spock subjected McCoy to in Mirror, Mirror--this time from Spock's point of view. This is a companion piece to Reflective Irony, but it will stand alone.
Never Parting ~ (Complete: R; Slash; Spock-McCoy) In the aftermath of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, Bones tries to protect Spock and make the Vulcan see reason...
No Excuses ~ (Complete; PG; Spock-McCoy; Friendship Fic) Bones gets his chance to lecture Spock in the wake of Amok Time.
Not For the Timid (TNG) ~ (Complete: PG; Picard-Q) Q teaches Picard a painful lesson in Q Who--a lesson that not only cuts Picard down to size, but shows him just how ruthless a teacher this entity is...
Reflective Irony ~ (Complete: PG-13; Slash; Spock-McCoy) The episode Mirror, Mirror leaves a lot unsaid about the forced mind-meld that Spock's counterpart subjected McCoy to, doesn't it? So I'm going to take a stab at describing it from McCoy's point of view...
Sláinte~(Complete: G; Spock-McCoy) In the aftermath of Galileo Seven, McCoy has some words of comfort and advice for Spock.
Someday~(Complete: PG-13; Spock-McCoy) In this drabble, Kirk bemoans all the squabbling he has to put up with between his first officer and his chief medical officer…
Starlight Issues~(Complete: G) Kirk and Rand find a quiet moment to chat up some issues, but this time it's not romance...
The Bold Deciever~(Complete: PG; Slash; Spock-McCoy) Spock must escort a drunken McCoy to his quarters. This is a companion piece to Whiskey in the Jar, but it will stand alone.
The Cold Shoulder~(Complete: PG; Slash; Spock-McCoy) A drabble taking place right after Spock's 'beads and rattles' quip in I, Mudd.
The Horned Gate ~ (Complete: R; Slash; Spock-McCoy) In a fevered dream, Bones discovers that the Spock from the Mirror Universe still has a hold over him...This is a companion piece to Reflective Irony, Mirrored Courage, A Lion's Share of Courage and A Subtle Bond
The Katra's Legacy~(Complete; PG) In the wake of Kirk's death, Spock and McCoy discuss the legacy of McCoy housing Spock's katra. This can be read as either a friendship fic or pre-slash.
These Blue Eyes~(Complete;G; Spock-McCoy) This drabble (exactly 100 words!) takes place after STAR TREK III: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK. Spock may not quite recall McCoy yet, but he remembers the good doctor's eyes...
To Reach This Season~(Complete; PG-13; Spock-McCoy, Slash, Holiday Fic: Chanukah) Kirk helps Bones see Spock's dual-heritage in a new light.
Two Little Words~(Complete; PG; Spock-McCoy) When he can't find the words, Spock grasps for some other way to express his gratitude to McCoy. This takes place between Star Trek III: The Search for Spock and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. You can read it as a friendship fic or pre-slash.
Unexpected Comfort (TNG)~(Complete; PG; Picard-Q) Q offers his brand of comfort to Jean-Luc in the wake of a tragedy.
Whiskey In The Jar (Complete; PG; Slash) McCoy must explain the behavior of inebriated humans to a certain Vulcan...
Original Fiction
My Shadow in the Sun (WIP; PG-13; Slash) Rob may be a Shakespeare addict, but the last thing he wants to do is direct a production of RICHARD III for his community theatre. But when a young man with cerebral palsy auditions for the lead, Rob changes his mind. Jeremy suffers from the same infirmities that plagued Richard--and he seems to have the same chip on his shoulder...
(My Fanfiction.net Page)
~Batman~
Feline Desperation (WIP; R) Bruce Wayne guesses the secret that his mistress, Selina Kyle, has been hiding. But is the notorious Catwoman just a cat burglar--or do her tastes run to murder?
~Bonanza~
A Brotherly Love (Complete; PG-13) Adam has his hands full with a drunk and disorderly Little Joe in the aftermath of The Quality of Mercy.
A Hogshead of Whiskey~(Complete; PG-13) Whiskey loosens Adam's tongue one night and he opens up to Little Joe, giving us a glimpse into his uneven relationship with Joe's mother, Marie.
A Pair of Black Eyes~(Complete; PG) Little Joe falls hard for a black-eyed beauty--but his crush turns to contempt as she ensnares him in her schemes...
A Moonlight Serenade~(Complete; G;) This piece shows my geekdom. It explores what would happen if Adam, Hoss and Little Joe could hop on line and play World of Warcraft. Don't worry if you've never played, you'll still be able to follow right along...
Better Loved~(Complete; PG) Adam risks an interracial romance with a charming young woman from New Orleans. But she's already familiar with him--and his step mother Marie. (This is the 2nd part of the series that begins with A Hogshead of Whiskey, but it will stand alone.)
Fare Thee Well~(Complete; PG-13) Adam continues his interracial romance with Charlotte, which brings trouble to Little Joe and sparks some old memories. This story is a continuation of A Hogshead of Whiskey and Better Loved--but it will stand alone (more or less.)
For Want of a Brother~(Complete; PG-13) Adam has to bring a young man to justice--a young man who's becoming uncomfortably like a little brother...
Miss Austen~(Complete; G) Joe is so bored that out of desperation he turns to one of Adam's books...
Tara at Dusk~(Complete; PG) A chance encounter with a little runaway leads Adam to the girl's mother--Scarlett O'Hara. Adam soon finds himself falling for the green-eyed vixen in this Gone With The Wind crossover.
The Cunning Escape~(Complete; G) Three critters who strongly resemble Adam, Hoss and Little Joe tumble into trouble when they escape from their cage...
The Eyes of the Wind~(Complete; PG) Adam has to rely on his enemy in the wake of a stagecoach wreck. This story is the prequel to For Want of a Brother, but it will stand alone.
The Green Bottle~(Complete; G) Little Joe learns that there are times when you just can't trust your older brother...
The Monstrosity~(WIP; R) Adam confonts his demons with the help of a man he once counted as an enemy--Drew Clayton. This story is the sequel to The Eyes of the Wind, which, in turn, is the prequel to For Want of a Brother. All three stories will stand alone.
The New Hand~(Complete; PG-13; Slash Fan Fiction) David Griffin rides onto the Ponderosa, flashes a charming smile and demands a job from Adam. Adam gives it to him, even though he knows that David has a score to settle with him. Best to keep your enemies close at hand...
The Silver Coin~(WIP; PG-13; Slash Fan Fiction) This story picks up right where The New Hand left off. Joe is becoming more and more attached to the poker tables--and David Griffin is the only one who notices. Even Adam is determined to make excuses for the kid...
Why Is This Night Different?~(Complete; G) This story is about three critters appropriately named after our Adam, Hoss and Little Joe. It's sort of a sequel to The Cunning Escape, but it will stand alone.
~Forgotten Realms~
The Serpent's Slave (WIP; PG; Forgotten Realms) A young man leaves his home, determined to forge his own path. I wrote it as the background story for a character that I never really got the chance to play...
~Sherlock Holmes~
A Distant Port (WIP; PG-13; Slash; Star Trek Crossover) Ok, I once read a joking list of Holmes-Watson conventions. It was stolen from a Kirk-Spock list, so it said something like "Does Dr. McCoy bring them together? Wait--wrong fandom!" But I'm going with that...
A Masterful Performance (Complete; PG; Slash) Holmes tracks down the young man who played him for a fool in A Study in Scarlet...
A Private Crime (Complete; PG; Slash) Watson resorts to a drastic declaration to distract Holmes from the needle...
A Useful Tool~(Complete; G) In my first Sherlock Holmes drabble--a regular, 100 word drabble, I'm afraid; not a 221B special!--Watson finds himself scandalized by his friend's ruthlessness...This takes place during The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.The
Unwitting Pawn~(Complete; PG; Slash) In the aftermath of The Adventure of the Dying Detective, Watson reflects upon his friend's ruthless nature—and what it has cost both men.
~Star Trek~
A Closed-Mouth Hobgoblin ~ (Complete: PG-13; Slash; Spock-McCoy) In this drabble, Bones is furious about a little secret Spock has kept...this takes place during the episode Journey to Babel.
A Fool and Her Feelings ~ (Complete: PG) A drabble taking place in the aftermath of The Enterprise Incident.
A Lion's Share of Courage ~ Complete. This one can only be found in the 'Zine Spiced Peaches, Issue XIV. In the Mirror Universe, Dr. McCoy is dying. Spock tends to him, but his thoughts are centered on the doctor's counterpart….This is a companion piece to Reflective Irony, Mirrored Courage, and A Subtle Bond, but it will stand alone.
A Remarkable Honor (Complete; PG; Spock-McCoy) In this drabble, McCoy reflects on the honor that Spock has bestowed upon him. This is set during Amok Time.
A Subtle Bond ~ (Complete: PG-13; Slash; Spock-McCoy) Kirk and Spock confront McCoy over just what happened between Bones and Spock's counterpart in the Mirror Universe. This is set in the aftermath of the episode Mirror, Mirror. It's a companion piece to Reflective Irony and Mirrored Courage, but it will stand alone.
A Touch of Diplomacy ~ (WIP: R; Slash; Kirk-Spock-McCoy) Kirk and Spock have a bad habit of underestimating Bones...
Complacency (TNG) ~ (Complete: G; Picard-Q) In this drabble, Picard reflects on the painful lesson Q has taught him in the episode Q Who.
Don't Ever Get Me Flowers (AOS; Star Trek XI) ~ (Complete; One-Shot; Slash; PG-13; Kirk-McCoy) Bones tries to put a little romance into a friends-with-benefits relationship.
Fractured Images ~ (Complete: R; Slash; Spock-McCoy) McCoy has a bone to pick with both our Spock and the Spock from the Mirror Universe...In theory, this one-shot can stand alone, but it's also a companion piece to Reflective Irony, Mirrored Courage, A Subtle Bond, A Lion's Share of Courage and The Horned Gate.
Further Study Needed ~ (Complete: PG; Spock-McCoy) Spock finds an intriguing new human to study…This is a slashy friendship-fic.
Lawful Obedience ~ (WIP: PG-13; Slash; Spock-McCoy) McCoy meets a man he has admired since childhood--but Spock remains unimpressed...
Love and Tofu ~ (Complete: PG; Slash; Spock-McCoy) In this drabble, McCoy shows his appreciation to Spock when the Vulcan attempts to celebrate an old American holiday with him.
Mirrored Courage ~ (Complete: PG; Slash; Spock-McCoy) Once again, I'm exploring the forced mind-meld that 'mirror' Spock subjected McCoy to in Mirror, Mirror--this time from Spock's point of view. This is a companion piece to Reflective Irony, but it will stand alone.
Never Parting ~ (Complete: R; Slash; Spock-McCoy) In the aftermath of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, Bones tries to protect Spock and make the Vulcan see reason...
No Excuses ~ (Complete; PG; Spock-McCoy; Friendship Fic) Bones gets his chance to lecture Spock in the wake of Amok Time.
Not For the Timid (TNG) ~ (Complete: PG; Picard-Q) Q teaches Picard a painful lesson in Q Who--a lesson that not only cuts Picard down to size, but shows him just how ruthless a teacher this entity is...
Reflective Irony ~ (Complete: PG-13; Slash; Spock-McCoy) The episode Mirror, Mirror leaves a lot unsaid about the forced mind-meld that Spock's counterpart subjected McCoy to, doesn't it? So I'm going to take a stab at describing it from McCoy's point of view...
Sláinte~(Complete: G; Spock-McCoy) In the aftermath of Galileo Seven, McCoy has some words of comfort and advice for Spock.
Someday~(Complete: PG-13; Spock-McCoy) In this drabble, Kirk bemoans all the squabbling he has to put up with between his first officer and his chief medical officer…
Starlight Issues~(Complete: G) Kirk and Rand find a quiet moment to chat up some issues, but this time it's not romance...
The Bold Deciever~(Complete: PG; Slash; Spock-McCoy) Spock must escort a drunken McCoy to his quarters. This is a companion piece to Whiskey in the Jar, but it will stand alone.
The Cold Shoulder~(Complete: PG; Slash; Spock-McCoy) A drabble taking place right after Spock's 'beads and rattles' quip in I, Mudd.
The Horned Gate ~ (Complete: R; Slash; Spock-McCoy) In a fevered dream, Bones discovers that the Spock from the Mirror Universe still has a hold over him...This is a companion piece to Reflective Irony, Mirrored Courage, A Lion's Share of Courage and A Subtle Bond
The Katra's Legacy~(Complete; PG) In the wake of Kirk's death, Spock and McCoy discuss the legacy of McCoy housing Spock's katra. This can be read as either a friendship fic or pre-slash.
These Blue Eyes~(Complete;G; Spock-McCoy) This drabble (exactly 100 words!) takes place after STAR TREK III: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK. Spock may not quite recall McCoy yet, but he remembers the good doctor's eyes...
To Reach This Season~(Complete; PG-13; Spock-McCoy, Slash, Holiday Fic: Chanukah) Kirk helps Bones see Spock's dual-heritage in a new light.
Two Little Words~(Complete; PG; Spock-McCoy) When he can't find the words, Spock grasps for some other way to express his gratitude to McCoy. This takes place between Star Trek III: The Search for Spock and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. You can read it as a friendship fic or pre-slash.
Unexpected Comfort (TNG)~(Complete; PG; Picard-Q) Q offers his brand of comfort to Jean-Luc in the wake of a tragedy.
Whiskey In The Jar (Complete; PG; Slash) McCoy must explain the behavior of inebriated humans to a certain Vulcan...
Original Fiction
My Shadow in the Sun (WIP; PG-13; Slash) Rob may be a Shakespeare addict, but the last thing he wants to do is direct a production of RICHARD III for his community theatre. But when a young man with cerebral palsy auditions for the lead, Rob changes his mind. Jeremy suffers from the same infirmities that plagued Richard--and he seems to have the same chip on his shoulder...
~Welcome~
Thank you for dropping by! Here's an overview of what you'll find here:
1. Stories ~ Fantasy, Original Slash, Historical Fiction and Fan Fiction. Take a look at the Story Index for a blurb on each.
2. Reviews ~ Books and movies that are worth your while...
3. Essays ~ My thoughts on Shakespeare, religion, writing, history and current events...
4. Just For Fun ~ Fun extras: quizzes, clips, etc.
Please feel free to browse and comment. Enjoy your stay!
~J. Rosemary Moss
1. Stories ~ Fantasy, Original Slash, Historical Fiction and Fan Fiction. Take a look at the Story Index for a blurb on each.
2. Reviews ~ Books and movies that are worth your while...
3. Essays ~ My thoughts on Shakespeare, religion, writing, history and current events...
4. Just For Fun ~ Fun extras: quizzes, clips, etc.
Please feel free to browse and comment. Enjoy your stay!
~J. Rosemary Moss
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)