Writing tag game

I was tagged by @jaimistoryteller and @phipiohsum475

Go to page seven of your current WIP, go down to the seventh line, and copy seven sentences.

“Greg.”

“Gregory…” he said with just a bit of hesitation. “There is no need for that. I simply appreciate you watching out for my brother. You may finish your drink and go.” Mycroft turned back to his laptop and opened it again, a clear sign of dismissal.

“I’ll call you,” said Greg, finishing his drink and standing.

This fic isn’t seven pages long yet, but this is where I left off, anyway.

I’m a gonna tag @mylittlecornerofsherlock and @chasingriversong

Allright, this is the one giving me fits over the title earlier. It’s gonna be multi-chapter, eventual mystrade and I think maybe case fic?:

Stepping In – When Greg hears two men arguing in an alley, he goes to see, stepping in when one pushes the other against the wall. And this is how he meets Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes.

teaser Below the cut:

The night was damp and threatening more rain as Greg left his latest crime scene. Halfway to his car, he heard an argument between two men in a nearby alley. Well, one was arguing; the other seemed to be talking in carefully measured tones. He couldn’t make out the words, but something didn’t feel right about it. Greg carefully moved towards the sound.

He recognized the junkie that had started hanging around his crime scenes, demanding to help. He was talking to a man who looked entirely too posh for this neighborhood.

Suddenly, the junkie grabbed the other’s arm and spun him, shoving him face first against the bricks as he twisted his arm and growled something in his ear.

Greg was halfway to them in a heartbeat. “Oi!” he called. “Let him go!”

The junkie sneered at him, but stepped back, only to slip and trip over some detritus in the alley. The posh man turned and tried to catch him, but there was an audible crack as the junkie’s head hit the street.

“Are you okay?” Greg asked the posh man as he reached the junkie’s side. The other man was already checking for injuries as Greg crouched next to the pair.

“I am fine. I can take care of my brother at home.” He started to reach for his mobile.

continue on AO3

Sunday Six

Six Sentences from a work in progress. I’m currently writing something for red pants Monday:

“And I’m wearing something I thought you’d like.”

Pushing John up, Sherlock went for his belt. He moaned again as he got John’s flys open. “Red?”

Grinning now, John got up just long enough to peel off his jeans, revealing the red pants he was wearing underneath. It was worth it for the look of naked lust on Sherlock’s face

Sunday Six

Each Sunday, post six lines from an unfinished fic


Sure, this is what I’m working on right now. It’s a Jack/Castiel chapter from the Rodeo AU (superwood:now with more bull). Yes i realize the first sentence is terrible:

Jack adjusted himself in the saddle, feeling the heaving beast quivering beneath him. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before signaling his readiness.

The gate came open and it was all Jack could do to hold on as the bull arched and twisted, trying to throw off the rider. Jack could only hear the sounds of the bull, could see nothing but the creature beneath him. His heart thumped against his chest as adrenaline pumped in his veins. Faintly, he heard the buzzer sound just as he lost his grip, thrown violently to the ground.