(no subject)

Friday evening, Sam's brain slid coyly out of his head and addressed him.

"Hey, you know how Torchwood's like a train wreck you can't look away from?" it said.

Sam was uncertain how to react to this.

"Well," his brain continued, "here's a nifty fanfic idea. And now you have to write it."

"But -- "

"Nope. Starting now," his brain said.

"Fuck," said Sam.

"Bet you can't finish it before the weekend," his brain said.

"Oh, you punk, it's on," Sam said.

And that's what I did this weekend instead of, oh, anything productive. I wrote fucking Torchwood fanfic. And finished it at eleven fifty-six Sunday night. AND IT COMES WITH A SOUNDTRACK.

Technically it's a Torchwood/Who crossover, actually.

Title: The Doctor And Mr. Jones (Torchwood/Who)
Rating: R for some Jack/Ianto naughtiness, but not much.
Summary: The Doctor thought he was alone in the universe -- but Torchwood is about to prove him wrong.
Note: Not actually a deathfic. Promise.

Chapter One: The Flesh and the Bones
Chapter Two: Easy as Sleep
Chapter Three: Our Doom And Pride
Chapter Four: A Worthy Man
Chapter Five: Homeward Bound

Soundtrack: Folk Songs For Welshmen And Others (coming in the morning when Megaupload isn't crashing my browser, the fuck.)

(no subject)

R's mum called me this evening. She's a decent person, a little on the intense side, but also more like R than he wants to admit. She says they lowballed me on the rent and she's very sorry but they need to raise it; praise-be for a new job, says I, and another $200 a month won't be a problem.

"I hear your new job has benefits," she said.

"Yeah -- mind-blowing. Medical and dental and the works."

"Do you...uh...think you could help R find a job like that?"

I toyed with telling her my fee was $200 a month, but I didn't think it'd go over well. :D

I said I'd pass on my Super Duper Jobsearch Website List. I don't imagine he'll do much with it; his soul is in his music and unlike me he's not willing to sell it for $20 copays on generic prescriptions. He's a bright man, our R, but like me he has an utterly useless degree (History) and unlike me he can't type fast or bend the internet to his malevolent will. Still, I can give him the websites.

Anyway, his mum's going to call my mum and talk to her this week to say thank-you for the care packages she's sent. That phone call should be fascinating. They each have a single theme: "I'm so glad my child has a good roommate in a nice part of town!"

Also, Sugar the World's Gassiest Dog is staying with us this week. You remember smell-o-vision? Someone needs to pretend-invent The Interscent because pain shared is pain lessened.