He glanced towards the sun-scorched shrubbery that flanked the river. Goldman was standing further up on the riverbank, away from the rest, but within close range of the Huey in case they had to take off. One arm shielded Goldman's dark eyes from the sun. He was standing absolutely still, his back to the river, facing the drying mud pool that had once been a rice paddy. Now it was overgrown and deserted, along with the small village whose inhabitants had farmed it.
Seems all Iíve seen of you lately is your back. Even when you're next to me, you're miles away. Why won't you talk to me, Goldman? As if on cue Goldman turned his head. For an irrational moment McKay thought Myron had somehow heard his unspoken question. Then he too heard the sound, helicopters swooping in low from the south.
But heís okay, my sergeant; he looks away, starts fixing with his gear. Leaves me with at least a pretence of dignity. Heís okay. Wonder how he got to be so damned good at reading people? Maybe itís not something you get good at, maybe itís something you have to be born with. I sure as hell wasnít born with it. Yeah, yeah, I know, add it to the list, General.
Sassy writes for the dark side (Myron/Johnny) and she does it so damn well. This is a long, hot little number, and I don't recommend starting it unless you've got some time to kill, 'cause once you start, no way are you going to want to stop. It's that freaking good.
He was about to move away when McKay's hands ran up his back. He froze. Again. McKay's hands kept moving...up over his shoulders...down his arms... back again. Goldman's breath caught in his throat as McKay stepped even closer, pressing against him as he slid his hands around front and across his chest. He felt the heat rising to his face. He knew he should say something, he should pull away, he... He gasped as McKay slipped his hands up under his shirt, sliding them across his skin as he leaned in and licked his ear.
We sort of dragged emma into this fandom without giving her a choice (but honest! If you're an A-Team fan, you're going to love this show. And she was, and did). This is the only fic she wrote for the fandom, but it's truly stunning.
We were about fifty yards out from the gate, but nobody came. I could feel eyes on us, though. ďA war is not a private place...Ē I muttered, ďand none, I think, do there embrace.Ē Butchering Emily. I walked a half-step in front of my sergeant, and when he fell the third time, I went down with him, half-catching him and Block in my arms. Zeke made a small sound in his throat and clutched Block away from me. Gathered him close. Blockís head rested on Zekeís shoulder. I thought about burying my head in my motherís long, black hair as she danced us to the radio