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crack_van2011-11-07 08:18 am
sc-fossil.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2011-11-07 08:18 am
Entry tags:
Strange Days Indeed by HG (NC-17)
Fandom: THE PROFESSIONALS
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Length: approx. approx 88,000 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hgdoghouse (note: lj is not active currently)
Author Website: HG on The Automated Hatstand, HG on The Circuit Archive
Why this must be read: HG is my favourite Pros author and I bow at her feet. *bg* This story is the ultimate wallow in h/c, and I love every word. Bodie is tormented by an old enemy and Doyle is caught up in the crossfire. The levels of h/c and angst are both at ten plus. It's the kind of story that you can't put down because you have to know what happens next. It's the kind of story that I can reread again and again, and never tire of. If you like a story where both lads' lives are in jeopardy and you're sure neither will survive, then this story is for you.
On a side note, unfortunately the formatting isn't done properly on the archive. I hope this doesn't deter anybody from reading. I decided to make this rec in spite of the problem because Strange Days needs to be on the list of Pros recs I do believe. What I did to overcome the bad formatting was download the story and reformat it into double spacing for easier reading. There is a little printer icon at the top of the story and this makes downloading a snap.
Look out!" Bodie yelled as a tractor lurched out of a concealed entrance directly in front of them.
Doyle slammed on the brakes, wrenching the wheel round and ramming the car against a high grass bank. The car stopped with its slewed front wing only inches from the huge rear mudguard of the tractor.
His hangover forgotten, Bodie unpinned himself from the dashboard and flopped back in his seat, winded from the impact. "Close," he said unnecessarily, giving the tractor a slit-eyed look of disapproval. "Crazy bastard, don't they have a Highway Code out here in the sticks?"
"They probably can't even read," said Doyle sourly.
The tractor blocked the narrow lane entirely. The engine still growling and juddering, the driver jumped down and came across to the car. "Are you all right?" he asked, in a soft blurred accent that neither of them could place.
Doyle wound down the window and gave him a vicious glare. "We're fine, no thanks to you."
"Sorry about that, sir. We don't get much traffic down here at this time of the morning." The man went round to examine the front of the car and pulled a face.
"Oh bugger," sighed Doyle, interpreting that look without difficulty. Cowley would hang them - him - out to dry if the car was badly damaged, seeming to take such accidents as a personal affront. Expecting the worst, he clambered out of the car.
Bodie swore under his breath, made to follow him and was forced to slide across the driver's seat, having discovered his door was jammed against the bank.
"Looks like we'll be needing to raid our piggy banks this time," he said, brushing past Doyle to get to the front of the car. "I can't see much wrong," he began, stopping abruptly when he heard an all too familiar click of a safety catch being released behind him. He turned, his hand already firm around the handgrip of his holstered Smith & Wesson.
"Don't," the tractor driver advised them.
Staring down the barrel of the .357 Magnum pointing at his belly, Bodie didn't. Doyle, gun in hand, let it drop to the ground.
Strange Days Indeed
Pairing: Bodie/Doyle
Length: approx. approx 88,000 words
Author on LJ:
hgdoghouse (note: lj is not active currently)Author Website: HG on The Automated Hatstand, HG on The Circuit Archive
Why this must be read: HG is my favourite Pros author and I bow at her feet. *bg* This story is the ultimate wallow in h/c, and I love every word. Bodie is tormented by an old enemy and Doyle is caught up in the crossfire. The levels of h/c and angst are both at ten plus. It's the kind of story that you can't put down because you have to know what happens next. It's the kind of story that I can reread again and again, and never tire of. If you like a story where both lads' lives are in jeopardy and you're sure neither will survive, then this story is for you.
On a side note, unfortunately the formatting isn't done properly on the archive. I hope this doesn't deter anybody from reading. I decided to make this rec in spite of the problem because Strange Days needs to be on the list of Pros recs I do believe. What I did to overcome the bad formatting was download the story and reformat it into double spacing for easier reading. There is a little printer icon at the top of the story and this makes downloading a snap.
Look out!" Bodie yelled as a tractor lurched out of a concealed entrance directly in front of them.
Doyle slammed on the brakes, wrenching the wheel round and ramming the car against a high grass bank. The car stopped with its slewed front wing only inches from the huge rear mudguard of the tractor.
His hangover forgotten, Bodie unpinned himself from the dashboard and flopped back in his seat, winded from the impact. "Close," he said unnecessarily, giving the tractor a slit-eyed look of disapproval. "Crazy bastard, don't they have a Highway Code out here in the sticks?"
"They probably can't even read," said Doyle sourly.
The tractor blocked the narrow lane entirely. The engine still growling and juddering, the driver jumped down and came across to the car. "Are you all right?" he asked, in a soft blurred accent that neither of them could place.
Doyle wound down the window and gave him a vicious glare. "We're fine, no thanks to you."
"Sorry about that, sir. We don't get much traffic down here at this time of the morning." The man went round to examine the front of the car and pulled a face.
"Oh bugger," sighed Doyle, interpreting that look without difficulty. Cowley would hang them - him - out to dry if the car was badly damaged, seeming to take such accidents as a personal affront. Expecting the worst, he clambered out of the car.
Bodie swore under his breath, made to follow him and was forced to slide across the driver's seat, having discovered his door was jammed against the bank.
"Looks like we'll be needing to raid our piggy banks this time," he said, brushing past Doyle to get to the front of the car. "I can't see much wrong," he began, stopping abruptly when he heard an all too familiar click of a safety catch being released behind him. He turned, his hand already firm around the handgrip of his holstered Smith & Wesson.
"Don't," the tractor driver advised them.
Staring down the barrel of the .357 Magnum pointing at his belly, Bodie didn't. Doyle, gun in hand, let it drop to the ground.
Strange Days Indeed