Note: Written for
fandom_me's
Guilty Pleasures Fest. A glimpse into the raw version of my mind creating plot bunnies. No, not the muses, not the Shetland-pony-sized bunnehs with spiked collars and t-shirts, not the strange lounge full of random furniture and the most massive open bar I can imagine. The fantasies of "time to sleep, damnit, intiate brain wind-down". Well, mostly. A bit polished up, this, not quite as disjointed. More dialogue. Anyway. On with the story.
Title: Fantasies
Fandom: Torchwood, Doctor Who
Story Rating: R
Story Warnings: smut (eventually), language (around small children, no less!), personal fantasy, deliberately unbeta'd
Chapter Rating: PG
Chapter Warnings: personal fantasy, deliberately unbeta'd
Disclaimer: No one in this story is mine. Except Morgyn, because she's me, and the offspring. Everyone else belongs either to themselves, or to the BBC. Characterizations are questionable on the real people I haven't met.
( 'You're the only one who came back.' )Part 2Note the second: Usually I won't even write this down, much less post it. This is about four versions before any plot you lot see out of me. Sometimes more, if it's being a particularly stubborn thing to beat into shape. And at least two versions before anything is written down. Not all plots are like this, but the epic ones.... *points up* This is how they begin. Bedtime stories.