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crack_van2012-05-07 01:48 pm
annieb1955.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2012-05-07 01:48 pm
Entry tags:
Close Only Counts by Brighid (Mature)
Fandom: STARGATE SG:1
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Author on LJ: [info]mz_bstone
Author Website: Brighid (I got a 404 error for her old website addy so I'm using her Alphagate page instead.)
Why this must be read:
For the longest time I had no idea that Brighid wrote in SG:1 as well as Sentinel. As she's always been a favorite TS author of mine, I was thrilled to stumble across her SG fic. This one is a particular favorite of mine. The emotion in it is so stark and honest and wonderfully conveyed.
Daniel drove home, fading adrenaline leaving him queasy, tired.
Some things...
...some things were better left buried.
He still tasted the dust, or at least the memory of it. He could still hear the grind of rock, the soft wet noise that they'd been unable to protect him from. Old grief resurged, raw and new and he thought that he'd been over this for years but he wasn't; he'd never truly been over it.
How did one ever get over such a thing? It was, if he were honest, always there, a stone lodged in the heart, a small sliver of granite grown over and ossified and yet still there, always there.
He forced himself to stop at the local strip mall, to go into the small specialty grocer he liked. Somehow he put together a basket of needful things: feta and olives and wraps and tomatoes and juice and the thin chocolate biscuits he'd bought in England, ones that he could now only find in this one store.
And then he found himself staring at bottles, class and cut and etched and cobalt. Considering wine over whiskey, the merits of fast drunk versus lasting drunk, all the while knowing he wouldn't get drunk at all, not really.
Or perhaps just enough to take the edge off, like anaesthetic.
Close Only Counts
Pairing: Jack/Daniel
Author on LJ: [info]mz_bstone
Author Website: Brighid (I got a 404 error for her old website addy so I'm using her Alphagate page instead.)
Why this must be read:
For the longest time I had no idea that Brighid wrote in SG:1 as well as Sentinel. As she's always been a favorite TS author of mine, I was thrilled to stumble across her SG fic. This one is a particular favorite of mine. The emotion in it is so stark and honest and wonderfully conveyed.
Daniel drove home, fading adrenaline leaving him queasy, tired.
Some things...
...some things were better left buried.
He still tasted the dust, or at least the memory of it. He could still hear the grind of rock, the soft wet noise that they'd been unable to protect him from. Old grief resurged, raw and new and he thought that he'd been over this for years but he wasn't; he'd never truly been over it.
How did one ever get over such a thing? It was, if he were honest, always there, a stone lodged in the heart, a small sliver of granite grown over and ossified and yet still there, always there.
He forced himself to stop at the local strip mall, to go into the small specialty grocer he liked. Somehow he put together a basket of needful things: feta and olives and wraps and tomatoes and juice and the thin chocolate biscuits he'd bought in England, ones that he could now only find in this one store.
And then he found himself staring at bottles, class and cut and etched and cobalt. Considering wine over whiskey, the merits of fast drunk versus lasting drunk, all the while knowing he wouldn't get drunk at all, not really.
Or perhaps just enough to take the edge off, like anaesthetic.
Close Only Counts