Six Sentence on Sunday

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Making the Best of It)
She gave him a small smile. It was something, he guessed.

The door creaked on opening, one hinge snapping off. Jack let it drop with a thunk to the dirt floor. Carter watched with apprehension until Jack settled it against the wall and took his first look around the cabin.  “Roomy.”

In Progress:
(from No Apologies)
“Are you feeling any… strange sensations?” the older man asked, watching Jack closely.

“No, I feel fine,” Jack repeated for the third time. Jacob narrowed his eyes. Jack cast a glance at each of the others seeing anticipation and wariness. “Why? What kind of sensations?”

Six Sentences on Sunday

Wow, just realized I haven’t done a six sentences on Sunday since early July.  I haven’t done much writing so I just didn’t feel like posting it with just one story.  So this one will have everything I’ve published/worked on since in the last month.

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Deepest Desires)

Jack swallows hard. His shallow breathing is loud in his ears. In the mirror the reflected Carter slides off his jacket and begins to work at his shirt. The bizarreness of the situation makes his head spin but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from them.

Jack very clearly sees Carter mouth, “I love you,” and his heart stops. He can’t move—can’t breathe—as he watches his reflection sweep the woman into his arms and nuzzle her neck.

(from To Carry On)

“What purpose will it serve if you also do not survive this attack?”"Jack, SG-3 is pinned down on the other ridge. We have to go help them.”

“We must continue to fight.” Teal’c rises. Daniel follows.

(from Seeing Past the Red)

Carter takes a deep breath. “Sir, what you did in the past… is in the past. That’s not who you are; it’s what you did.”"Is there really a difference?”

“I think so. In the time I’ve known you you’ve never done anything to hurt anyone if you could help it.”

(from Don’t Drink the Wine)

“That’s what she said.”Sam busted out laughing again, Vala and Mitchell joining her after a few seconds. Even Teal’c chuckled. Daniel was sure of it. “How long have you been waiting to use that line?” Sam asked Mitchell.

(from There’s a Reason)

“Oh boy, time to go.”"Remember this is why you continued General Hammond’s ban on prank wars—there’s always payback.”

“Indeed.”

“Yeah, but I’ll be in Washington in the next few hours.”

“I don’t doubt Sam could pull something off before you leave. This is Sam Carter we’re talking about.”

“Awhile.”

(from In the Dark)

“Carter? That was a joke. It was a line from some dumb TV show I watched last night.”"…”

“Carter? Come on, I’m sorry.

(from Because)

“I’m just saying, think of how you would feel if something happened and you never told him.”"Daniel-”

“Think about it.”

“I already have… too many times.”

“Then tell him. He needs to know and you need to say it.”

(from Ashes of Tulsa–not published yet)

The wind suddenly shifts, a cool breeze blowing in from the north. Daniel shivers but then he feels the warming rays of the sun on his back. He cups a hand over his eyes and peers up at his first glimpse of blue sky in weeks. The air around them clears as the wind pushes the ash in the other direction. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his face turned up to the sun.Jack looks around with a huge grin plastered on his dirt streaked face.

(from Making the Best of It–not published yet)

She pulled a face then rolled her eyes.  “There’s only one bed.”Jack felt his own face flush.  “You noticed that, too.”  He turned to stare at the crumbling chimney on the rear of the house.  “Well, since I am a colonel…”

In Progress:
(from untitled Jack/Sam, Daniel/Vala fic)

Jack turned his glare at Teal’c saving Daniel from having to wipe the growing smirk from his face. Teal’c was quite observant.”What he said.”

After a moment Jack seemed to deflate. He sighed, turning his bottle around and around in his hands. “I really didn’t think it would be this hard.”

(from untitled Jack/Sam story)

Daniel sighs. “About Sam. And Pete. The wedding.”"What about it.” Another gulp and the bottle is tossed into the pile next to his him, other empties rolling with a clinking sound under the chair and across the deck.

(from untitled apoca!fic)

“She is well, O’Neill.”"Well, she was last we saw her.” Teal’c frowns at Daniel who quickly adds, “I mean we dropped her off just after we rescued her. They had some technical thing for her to look at.”

“Who?”

“The Tok’ra,” says a familiar voice from the doorway.

(from untitled teamy fic)

Jack clapped his hands and pointed at Sam.  “I like her, she has good ideas.”  He pushed past Daniel into the hall and headed for his bedroom.  “And she doesn’t nag,” he called from behind the door.Daniel rubbed at his eyes.  “You’re not helping.”

Six Sentences on Sunday

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Existing)
Jack’s mouth went completely dry and it took him a few beats before he could reply. “Carter.” He looked past her at what was left of her ship. “Glad to see you got her home in one piece. More or less.” The subtext to that statement was about as subtle as a slap to the face.

(from Chances Are Easily Lost)
It’s been three years since he’s even seen her and, yet, the feelings having subsided. Not that anyone knew that. Hell, Logan didn’t even know that. And he doubted now that he’d ever get the chance to tell her. It was his own damn fault, he think as he finally moves from his frozen spot next to the mailbox—the perfume and the memories and the pain trailing after him. He had his chance and blew it.

(from All They Have)
Another pop caught her off guard and she gave Russ a sheepish grin. He just smiled at her and scooted closer until their legs were touching—not overtly intentional looking, but obvious to her nonetheless. She didn’t even notice the next blossom of sparks; her eyes were fixed on Russ. He spread his hands away from his body and leaned back on them, mimicking Clare’s position. As his face turned up towards the show she felt his fingers brushing against her hand. It took every ounce of will power not to look down at them, not to draw attention to the illicit touch.

In Progress:
(untitled picture prompt story)
Sam could tell the passage out of the clearing had once been manicured. Ancient flowerbeds lined the roughly paved road but were so overgrown with weeds and wild vines they were nearly lost. She only noticed them after Daniel tripped. A few yards in the hills on either side pulled back giving a sweeping view of another valley below. Thankfully the path down was more leisurely than the climb from the Stargate on the mountain.

Green hills rolled along almost ocean-like, the path following the natural contours of the land.

Six Sentences on Sunday

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Home She Came)

Russ sat up front, crisp and pressed in his best suit. A black suit. He hated it. There was only ever one reason to put it on. Right now he’d like to take it out to the woods and watch it burn. But instead he sat stoically, his mother at his side weeping softly.

(from Distraction From the Black)

“Coffee?” he asks, dumbly, and she nods—a look of relief on her face. After finally getting a couple sips he sets his mug down and watches his 2IC. “So, Carter, what brings ya round this early in the morning?”

She glances at her watch. “It’s 10:30, sir.”

“It’s Sunday, Carter.”

(from Camp Out)

She sees him shake his head—his silhouette just a shadow inside the tent. “Nothing. I just don’t wanna scare you.”

Sarah bristles. “I’m not scared.”

“Uh huh.”

He tosses the flashlight aside and squirms into his sleeping bag.

In Progress:
(untitled Russ/Clare drabble)

“It took me years to not jump at every backfiring car or bottle rocket going off.”

“I know.”

After a moment he lowered himself to the blanket next to her and sat quietly. She noticed he wasn’t watching the show. “Are you still on the clock?”

“Once a cop, always a cop.”

(untitled SG-1 prompt fic)

“Huh. That’s got to be a pretty common way to build a house, though. Right? The Stargate on Earth was buried long before they discovered the Americas.”

Daniel nodded. “It’s interesting, though.”

Six Sentences on Sunday

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Distraction from the Dark–not published yet)

There are a lot of things that Jack O’Neill dreads: facing a platoon of heavily armed Jaffa after running out of ammunition, listening to pompous, over-dressed snakeheads blather on about how great they are; listening to pompous, over-dressed politicians blather on about how great they think they are. Long, boring meetings; mountains of paperwork; crappy movies; attempted alien incursions; dealing with brainiacs; warm beer… they all top his list.

But this day in late June, more than any other, keeps him in the dark. Metaphorically and physically. Jack rolls onto his stomach and covers his head with the pillow. He can’t really breath that way but, at the moment, doesn’t particularly care.

(from Downtime–not published yet)

The early morning sun begins to filter through the closed blinds giving the room a muted, surreal look. Cam blinks the sleep from his eyes, momentarily confused. Something isn’t right. Around him the room is still and quiet. Too quiet. With a groan he pushes up to sitting, dangling his legs over the edge, and rubs at his face.

(from Home She Came)

The Army has never been that great with paperwork. So it didn’t particularly surprise Russ that the final word came so late. It took three week for them to get word to the next of kin. And the next of kin didn’t think to inform her “family” for another two weeks.

St. Alban’s Church was packed to the rafters—standing room only. They brought in extra seats and set them up with care in front of the very first pew and down the aisles, making sure to leave enough space to satisfy the Fire Chief.

(from Healthy Fear of the Dark)

“Carter, watch your hands.”

“Sorry, sir; I can’t see.”

“Well, neither can I but you don’t see me putting my hands-”

“I said I was sorry.”

“I know, Carter. Hold on a second.”

(from In the Light of Night)

The cave was cold and damp. Like just about every other cave Daniel found himself in over his lifetime. Which was a surprisingly high amount. Next to him Vala mumbled under her breath and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her jacket around them. Her hair was plastered to her face, rain dripping from the tip of her nose onto her mud caked pants. She wiped absently at a strand of loose hair until Daniel reached over to push it behind her ear, startling her.

In Progress:
(from Camp Out)

Metal and fiberglass poles snap into place with a quiet clinking then slip through their sleeves whispering into the dusk. Sarah giggles from her spot on the lawn chair as she reaches high over her head.

“Hold it steady,” Tucker grumbles. He’s outside trying to get the poles to slip into their slots. It’s not as easy as it looks. Or so he tells Sarah.

(from Another Day, Another Dollar (or not))

Another deal gone horribly awry, Mal thinks as he hunkers down behind an outcropping of rocks. Below him in the canyon the local law searches every house and crevice they can find. Too bad their lookin’ on the wrong side of town. Up in the hills the folk are simpler, not too in love with the city dwellers who tend to look down their noses at anyone without shoes. Mal glances at his companion–a twenty-something kid in tattered coat and dirty feet. He smiles broadly, several teeth missing, and gestures with his head. Mal follows him away from the ridge back into the trees.

Six Sentences on Sunday

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Of Mutant Squirrels and Humiliation)

They bolted from the undergrowth a few minutes later into blistering daylight. Momentarily blinded they both tripped and clattered to the ground with identical grunts. Cam used the moment to catch his breath and try to get his bearings. He wasn’t even sure they were on the right side of the forest any more. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked around. They were in a clearing, trees surrounding them in a rough circle.

(from Daydreaming)

Sam’s vibrating now, an intense sensation that she can’t ignore or deny. He’s doing this to her—with his gritty face and disheveled hair. And that smile, one corner of his mouth quirked up in question. He’s right in front of her now and Sam couldn’t move if she wanted to. His hand raises slowly, still allowing her to refuse his action. She tracks it as it moves to her face.

(from Talk of the Town)

She pulled her head out and looked up at him, squinting at the sun that glinted over his shoulder. “What about us?” She had that look in her eye. The one that said she thought she knew what they were not discussing.Jack pulled his gaze away from her and stared at the barren horizon. This planet was desolate.

(from Living the Nightmare)

“How? What? Where?” Cassie knows her voice sounds absurdly small and she’s really not sure what she wants to know and what is automatic questioning by a brain too far lost coherent thought.Sam wipes at her own face and takes a deep breath. “She was off-world.”

(from Walk of Shame)

“There’s no god here, sister,” said a surly voice. Sam glanced at the women sitting on an identical metal bench on the other side of the room. She was dressed in shorts and tank top that barely qualified as clothing. Sam had undergarments that covered more.Sam closed her eyes, her head shaking in shame. How the hell did she end up in jail?

(from Save the Last Dance)

A flash of red caught his eye and he followed the dress up to the smiling, laughing face of Vala. She was currently spinning around the floor with a leering Marine. Major Miller. He was new—on SG-16 or something. Daniel was starting to lose track of the constant rotation of personnel lately. What had once been a pretty tight-knit family had loosened up lately with IOA interference.

(from Playing the Game: Rules are Meant to be Broken)

“There’s always a few that don’t adapt well to a regime change.”She snorted. “I’d hardly call it a regime change, sir.”

“Going from a civilian command to military is a lot to take. Especially with a science expedition like this.”

“It hasn’t been that bad.”

(from a Eureka badfic for a scifiland challenge)

“Who are you?”"I’m AVril Summer Raiyne and I’m the new boss.”

“Hey, you can’t just come in here and say you’re the boss.”

“Yes I can.” Then this other lady comes in and acts like she’s in charge even though she should know I am.

“Who died and made you god?” she asks.

In Progress:
(from prequel to Walk of Shame)

“So you speak from experience?”Daniel glared at her. “I could help you come up with some excuse.”

Sam faced him at the elevators. “Daniel, I’m not going to flake out on her now. I already agreed to go out.”

Six Sentences on Sunday

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from Just the Beginning):

He found it unnerved him more than a little to see her so unbalanced.

He picked up her satiny dress, letting the soft material slide through his fingers. He remembered the way she had shimmied out of it the night before… much to his delight. She gave him a half-hearted smile and shrug when she saw him staring at it.

Daniel sighed. “What’s wrong?”

(from Jack the Spoil-sport)

Oh god, he’s losing it, he thinks. He forces his mind back to the problem at hand. With every ounce of strength (and will power) he has he manages to get one of her arms clamped behind her back. They wrestle around until Jack finally pins her face down, his body straddling her legs and her wrist nearly pressed into her neck at a painful angle. The cry she emits isn’t any kind of pain he’s heard before. If anything she sounds like she’s enjoying it.

(from In the Beginning)

She stood up, looking all around until she found the source. A little boy with messy brown hair and dirty clothes dropped down from a tree near by. She eyed him for a moment but he didn’t look threatening. He looked her age so he couldn’t be all that bad.

“I’m lost,” she told him softly, feeling her cheeks grow red and more tears welling up in her eyes.

“No you’re not.”

Six Sentences on Sunday

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

Finished:
(from original fic Sunset)

It’s a nightly ritual she observes without fail, climbing to the roof of her house through an attic window. Rory doesn’t understand. He’s accused of her of being crazy in the past. Sarah wonders if he will finally give up on her and leave. She doesn’t think it really makes a difference now.

The sun creeps down and the air shifts, pushing her greasy hair into her face. She didn’t have time to shower after work tonight.

In Progress:
(from untitled SG-1–Jonas fic)

Kelowna was filled with squat square brick buildings. Only recently did they start building larger structures filled with windows and steel. Earth was just filled with amazing things to see. Jonas watched them pass in a blur as Daniel finally maneuvered through the clogged city streets and into a residential area. The taller commercial buildings of Colorado Springs gave way to manicured lawns and small rustic looking ranch houses or little bungalows with bay windows. They weren’t all that different than the kind of homes Jonas knew on Kelowna.

(from original fic for NaNo 2009)

Page rubbed the bridge of his nose as the ship shuddered under him. “Can we jump to lightspeed?”

“Not in the planet’s atmosphere. It could cause a climactic feedback in the engines and- “

Page waved him off. “If we could get out of the atmosphere could we engage the jumpers?”

Six Sentences on Sunday

~*~Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.~*~

 

Finished:
(from Snippets of Millers Kill)

He rubs at his eyes, tears pressing out at the corners. He can’t help but feel responsible for her death. But the more he thinks about it the angrier he gets. If she would have just listened to him instead of tearing off in a huff. It wasn’t like he could have left Clare alone to deal with…

His thoughts break off.

(from So Wrong)

Daniel had given him a smug, knowing look as Janet dragged him to the infirmary for an ultrasound.

And now here he was lying in the infirmary with a sore abdomen, raging migraine and roiling stomach surrounded by brightly colored balloons and banners… all mocking him. He’d pop every single one of them if he could get out of bed.

“How are you feeling, Colonel?” Dr. Spitz—some guy from the Academy Jack had never heard of—wandered in, clipboard in hand.

“Just peachy.”

(from No Time–finished but not published)

She shuttered visibly then turned to face him again; he let his hand fall back to the bed. “Sir?” she asked with obvious confusion.

“You think you could drop the ‘sir’? Consider it a dying man’s last wish.”

That got her. She nearly choked at the words, taking great effort to swallow.

In Progress:

(unfinished Russ/Clare story)

“Clare?” She didn’t move. He reached a shaky hand out to touch her cheek. She was cool but sweaty. He swallowed hard and shook her gently. “Clare?”

(unfinished NaNo novel)

Double metal doors with simple polished handles stood slightly ajar. The sign next to the door read, “B-10 OP, Colonel Trellis. Jack frowned at the name wondering what kind of US military man could be in charge of a facility that condoned human torture and experimentation. The operations room was a large circular space extending up three levels. The ceiling over the far side up the top most level appeared collapsed and dust and smoke drifted around it. Jack worked his way around the room inspecting each station for clues.

(unfinished #5 story of my alt!reality series)

“Ra?”

“Hmmm. Oh, Ra was the almost universally-worshiped king of the gods and all-father of creation.” Sam watched him from the corner of her eye. She could see him running facts through his head. “He was mortal enemies with Apophis.”

(unfinished SG-1 story)

“Hey, T,” O’Neill called, “where’d you get the car?”

Teal’c raised an eyebrow at his friend. O’Neill was sitting atop a very angry looking man with a very satisfied smirk on his face.

“From the motor pool,” he replied curtly. “General Hammond said I could borrow it.”

O’Neill smiled at him.

(unfinished No Apologies)

Jack narrowed his eyes at Jacob. “What-”

“Jack,” Daniel said, trying to distract him, “just calm down and we’ll explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. Where the hell is Carter?”

“She left,” Jacob told him flatly.

So, out of any of the unfinished one do you have a request to get to the top of the heap?  Just wondering.  I’m kind of floundering trying to get any of them finished.  A kick in the pants is always a good thing.