noodling...

crap. when did it get to be 12:45 in the PM. time never flies of a monday.

but at least I managed to track down that German film from 1928. Hah. and it really IS "avant-garde."

getting hungry, but common sense (or something) says take a late lunch since there will be no chance to eat before we fling ourselves back into rehearsals. after all, girl cannot live on brown sugar cinnamon poptarts and coffee alone. (although I am addicted to those damn poptarts...).

scored on the father's day present yesterday. Apparently the QI trivia book really IS Quite Interesting.

ok, back to work. Canadian safety films from 1971 don't find themselves you know...

TW fic (short) Tea with Jam

Title: Tea with Jam
Pairing(s)/ Characters: Suzie, Ianto
Warning(s): sarcasm hurts like a bitch.
Word Count:  just above 200
Disclaimer: The sand and the sandbox belong to the BBC. The sandcastles are mine.
Summary:  Suzie trains Ianto up right.

a/n: Just a little doodle that I wrote that amused me... so I thought I'd stick it out there for general hilarity. This pairing is making my brain hurt in good ways...

 

“Stop limiting yourself,” I told him one afternoon not long after he started. “Right now you’re just calling yourself a researcher. The information is out there to be found, and you have the skills to find it. Now get going.”

 

“Come on. Surely, outside of spy films, no one REALLY knows things like first pet’s names.”

 

“London, I could tell you the name of your first pet, your polytech locker combination, the brand name of your first bicycle … and … your school nickname. You don't want me to prove that assertion."

 

“There’s no way…”

 

He always needed to do things the hard way.

 

“Frank. What kind of name is that for a goldfish? 36-5-12, Raleigh, and …”

 

“Don’t say it!”

 

“Then get to work and find me some information I can use … Jammie.”

 

When we got back from retrieving an errant Traxian Transponder, the information I needed, and more, was sitting on my worktop underneath a small plate of Jammie Dodgers. Tucked under one of them was a note that read:

 

“Q.

 

Make sure you eat the evidence.

 

J.

 

p.s. My goldfish was great pet. Until Frank sank."

 

Damn Jack's instincts. This one definitely has possibilities.