sometimes you count the days, sometimes you'll just slip away, there are watches to unwind.

[intrikate88]

Snagged from shinyopals since it was, um, shiny.

Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations. (Since I tend to bend rules to my whims and fancies it is actually a shortish passage instead of just a single sentence. Pfffbbbt.)



I. So that was why, when he saw the box, that Gene Hunt slammed down on the brakes of his Audi Quattro, reversed, leapt from the car, shouted, "You're nicked, chum!" and handcuffed the man, making it among the quickest arrival-to-incarceration times in the Doctor's history.

II. "I don't see how we could need much more, even if we're gone for weeks and weeks. Somebody could always give us things, anyway, if we run out. Unless we need a tent. Have we officially run away yet? Or do we still have time to get a tent?"

"We've run away already," replied the Doctor firmly. He tugged at his bow tie.

III. “I hope you haven’t been saying that to anyone else. They’ll lock you up and diagnose you with dementia,” Jack commented, “again.”

IV. Eventually that Tyler girl deigned to come back, draggin’ a new bloke behind her, not that I was surprised. He was an older one, too, but still looked like a step down- a nice turnaround for a girl who wanted to be taken all over the world, wasn’t it?

V. “I think I’ve heard of Dickens,” said Pete, wrinkling his forehead. “Isn’t he the one who wrote about that scientist who brought a monster to life?”

“That was Mary Shelley,” said Rose from the back, her voice partly muffled by Jackie’s shoulder. “I told her husband not to tell her about Frankenstein and his experiments but Percy never did listen to me, he just kept talkin’ on about his open marriage and all that.”

VI. There’s a girl at the desk. A woman. Brunette, nice tits if he really could have appreciated that sort of thing. “This is Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless,” she announces briskly. “At affordable rates. If you’re wondering.”

VII. Saving someone’s world is easier when you can go from one catastrophe to another catastrophe three thousand years later and two galaxies over. Sometimes Rose doesn’t resist the urge to ignore her phone when Rachel calls again.

VIII. A shame what happened to Gringotts, says Bella. The rush, I mean. I heard many people died trying to get into the vaults. And I wasn’t even there for it.

Neither was I, says Barty, with regret.

IX. When the time vortex was released from its position in the heart of the TARDIS, it did so like a hormone-crazed teenager at a high school dance with poor supervision, and latched itself promiscuously to the first person to devote all her time to it: Rose Tyler. And though the Doctor drew out the time vortex and sent it, giddy and stupefied and possibly wearing its underpants on its head, to its room. But it had had its fun, and Rose wasn’t wearing any protection.

The TARDIS had, in short, knocked Rose up.

X. “You are actually a carrier of a type of vampire hemophilia or Ebola or something and the CIA sent you on a suicide mission to infect us.”

“…what?”

“It could happen!”

XI. “I need you to do your serial killer thing on me,” Deb says without preamble, after stomping in and slamming the door to my lab.

XII. “Mum’s in trouble,” Malcolm told his brothers. Mark looked up from the heating element he was prising free of its casing. “There’s a man who wants to talk to Da. He won’t leave.”
“He doesn’t have to leave,” Miles said thoughtfully. “I don’t think I saw anyone watching when I let him in.”
Malcolm frowned. “He’s some sort of government bloke. People would look for him.”

Comments

[scornedsaint.livejournal.com]

The TARDIS had, in short, knocked Rose up.

Finish this one. IMMEDIATELY.