Title: Succinct and Susurrous
Rating: G
Category: H/M
Summarry: See title! ;)
Disclaimer: If you really want to send me money, I'll take it! But, I don't deserve it! heehee...
A/N: This is only my second fic but my first post. This one is very short; I like the one-scene "stories." I find it fascinating how the actual writers of JAG can make a scene happen with only the set, dialogue, facial expressions and body language (and maybe some cheesy music) with no characters' thoughts - and it works! I'm not really trying to recreate that with this scene. But, I did have it in mind when I wrote it (which is why it's a little choppy). I'm not a writer by any stretch of the imagination so I'd like some idea of what you think - constructive criticism is most welcome. Thanks!
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The ambiance is warm and dim, almost flickering; the scent of hazelnut hangs in the slightly humid air. The room is easily silent.
They are seated on the couch - together.
His right elbow lies on the armrest while one foot is planted firmly on the hardwood floor, the other on his knee. His eyes are closed as he enjoys her warmth.
Her stocking feet are tucked under her and she leans against him with her head resting on his shoulder. She stares, unseeing, at the side of the island in the kitchen.
He holds their clasped hands to his chest.
"What are you thinking?" His words drip, low and velvety.
She heaves a long and full sigh. "How long we've been friends."
"How long is that?"
"Hmm . . . " she pauses in continued contemplation, "Seven years, eleven months, four days and.oh, something like that," she drawls.
"How many arguments have we fought through?"
"I don't think there is a number that high."
They both comfortably chuckle.
"Why are we friends?" Her tone isn't one of accusation but gentle curiosity.
What could he possibly say to that; does he even own the words necessary to articulate an explanation? Well . . . maybe . . . "I love you," he breathes.
If it is possible, he feels her relax further against him and he hears the knowing smile in her response. "That's the right answer."
La fine.
Rating: G
Category: H/M
Summarry: See title! ;)
Disclaimer: If you really want to send me money, I'll take it! But, I don't deserve it! heehee...
A/N: This is only my second fic but my first post. This one is very short; I like the one-scene "stories." I find it fascinating how the actual writers of JAG can make a scene happen with only the set, dialogue, facial expressions and body language (and maybe some cheesy music) with no characters' thoughts - and it works! I'm not really trying to recreate that with this scene. But, I did have it in mind when I wrote it (which is why it's a little choppy). I'm not a writer by any stretch of the imagination so I'd like some idea of what you think - constructive criticism is most welcome. Thanks!
____________________________________________________________
The ambiance is warm and dim, almost flickering; the scent of hazelnut hangs in the slightly humid air. The room is easily silent.
They are seated on the couch - together.
His right elbow lies on the armrest while one foot is planted firmly on the hardwood floor, the other on his knee. His eyes are closed as he enjoys her warmth.
Her stocking feet are tucked under her and she leans against him with her head resting on his shoulder. She stares, unseeing, at the side of the island in the kitchen.
He holds their clasped hands to his chest.
"What are you thinking?" His words drip, low and velvety.
She heaves a long and full sigh. "How long we've been friends."
"How long is that?"
"Hmm . . . " she pauses in continued contemplation, "Seven years, eleven months, four days and.oh, something like that," she drawls.
"How many arguments have we fought through?"
"I don't think there is a number that high."
They both comfortably chuckle.
"Why are we friends?" Her tone isn't one of accusation but gentle curiosity.
What could he possibly say to that; does he even own the words necessary to articulate an explanation? Well . . . maybe . . . "I love you," he breathes.
If it is possible, he feels her relax further against him and he hears the knowing smile in her response. "That's the right answer."
La fine.