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AFRIKATE:
"Tell The Wind And The Fire." ![]() |
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07/12/19 41kb |
James
Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. James takes up a hobby while he quits smoking.. |
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He
watches Hathaway's hands. They are long, careful with
everything he touches. Not delicate; they are strong,
hold firm, punch hard, but they can be gentle—when
picking through the remains in someone's room, when
handing tea to a shivering witness. Robbie likes to watch those hands, though he'd never admit it—can barely admit it even to himself. But he does—watches them slip in a pocket, pull out a packet of fags, cup his hands round the end when lighting up. Robbie doesn't, deliberately doesn't, watch Hathaway purse his lips on a breath in. Can't. But he can watch those hands of his. |
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Nice slow get togther with no overdone
angst. Well written. |
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ALLHEADYBOOKS: "Semi-Skimmed."
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07/12/19 33kb |
James Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. James takes Robbie in hand when he has a case of the sulks. |
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"DS
Cooper's asked us to her engagement party," Hathaway
says. The late-day light from the window comes down into
the hair on the back of his neck and makes it sparkle.
"Week after next, the Friday I think. Her fiancée's some
kind of teacher. Kiddies." |
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"Hm," Lewis says, into the cold amber of his lager. | ||
"Brave of her, I thought," Hathaway adds. | ||
"What?" | ||
"Well," Hathaway says, "putting it round herself. There were rumors all round the office--I was warned off her by a WPC once--don't bother chatting her up, she's a dyke and all." He smiles with one corner of his mouth, tense. "I suspect my informant had less than honorable intentions." | ||
This story has a slow,
sweet relationship development wrapped around the
structure of a murder case. |
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ARIADNES_STRING: "As
Holy Palmer's Kiss." ![]() |
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07/12/19 18kb |
James Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. Lewis doesn't know how to react when Hathaway starts writing on him. |
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It
starts in the strangest of ways. |
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They’re picking their way along a country lane, looking for traces of a supposed midnight rendezvous, when Hathaway’s mobile goes off. | ||
He pauses, tucks the phone between ear and shoulder, and pulls a pen from his jacket pocket. Then he frowns, searches his pockets again, and makes urgent writing gestures in the air between them. | ||
Lewis pats his own pockets, but his pad, too, is back at the car. He shrugs. | ||
“No,” Hathaway says into the phone. “Don’t bother texting; I’ve got it.” | ||
And he grabs Lewis’s right hand and presses the nib of his pen into his palm. | ||
Beautiful little story. |
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ARIADNES_STRING: "A
Slice of Chocolate Gateau." ![]() |
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07/12/19 22kb |
James Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. Dr. Hobson breaks her ankle. Lewis and Hathaway bring her cake. |
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“Just a bloody minute,” Laura muttered, fumbling for her
crutches. She continued cursing under her breath as she
hopped-dragged herself to the door, wishing she’d
thought to push her hair off her face while she still
had a hand free. Once she got to the door, it took a minute to realign her balance so she could look through the peephole to see who it was. Robbie Lewis’s wide, weathered face looked back at her. He was smiling, but he was wearing a coat and tie, which could only mean one thing. He raised one hand in a tiny wave. |
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Sweet. |
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ARIADNES_STRING:
"What Flowers Are At My Feet." ![]() |
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07/12/19
25kb
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Gen. Hathaway develops pneumonia and isn't a very good patient. |
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“Pneumonia,” Lewis said. “Why on earth did you come to work with pneumonia?” | ||
Nice hurt/comfort story. |
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ATROPOS_LEE:
"Vita Nuova." ![]() |
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07/12/19 316kb |
Robbie Lewis/Laura
Hobson; James Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. Hathaway's first murder as Inspector goes pear-shaped and Robbie steps in to help. |
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The
city of his dreams is as familiar, after all these
years, as the city in which he lives and works. Each night he traces a new route through its stairs, and arcades and steeply rising stony streets, always on the verge of recognition, yet every corner, every courtyard, every gateway reveals a vista he knows he has not seen before. Sometimes it is a city of the dead; sere yellow grass rattling between the cobbles, the bones of small birds and mammals and fragile snail shells crack beneath his step, and the doorways and windows open onto silent space, void of any life but his. At other times, it rings with voices, bells, laughter, the song of birds, the sighing of cypresses, and then he glimpses the lives of others… |
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This story is almost two
parts. One is a metaphorical landscape explored by Lewis
in his dreams, while the second part is a fascinating
case fic which involves Hathaway's past. Well written
and a joy to read. |
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ATROPOS_LEE:
"Vita Nuova Coda-Three Revelations of Robbie
Lewis." ![]() |
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07/12/19
10kb |
James
Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. The sweet sex part left out of Vita Nuova. |
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The first shock is of familiarity; lying here over the duvet, in a pool of lamplight. Quiet, at the end of day. Still. Tea mugs steaming an arm’s reach away. Rain stuttering on the path in the darkness beyond the curtains. | ||
Lovely. |
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BARCARDIVODKA:
"Routine." ![]() |
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07/12/19
8kb |
James
Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. A routine enquiry turns dangerous. |
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The loud boom, as both barrels of a shotgun discharged, vibrated through the early morning quiet, making the crows, nesting in the tall trees behind the isolated cottage, squawk in outrage. | ||
I would personally like it to go
somewhere, either emotionally or otherwise, but
this is still a beautifully written short story. |
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BEREVETTE:
"Back To Roots." ![]() |
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07/12/19 52kb |
James Hathaway/Robbie
Lewis. James and Robbie's relationship is outed. |
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The pictures were large and took up half her desk when spread out. Glossy and colorful, each one depicted a similar scene: Lewis and Hathaway, pressed together, kissing or close to a kiss. | ||
Jean Innocent
investigates! |
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BEREVETTE:
"Inclined To Domesticity." ![]() |
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07/12/19 78kb |
James Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. It's all in the title of the story. James looks after Robbie. |
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Lewis fumbled with the safety belt, only to have gentle
hands reach past his own to unlatch it. “There we go,
sir. We’re standing up now.” "I’m fine, Hathaway,” Lewis muttered. “Of course, sir. You’re just making an overworried Sergeant very happy.” “Worse than my own mum,” Lewis complained. “As you say, sir,” Hathaway agreed. |
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Sweet and very funny
story. |
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CACTUSONASTAIR:
"In Loco Patris." ![]() |
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07/12/19 346kb |
James Hathaway/Robbie Lewis. Lewis and Hathaway investigate the case of a corpse dumped in a farmer's field, not knowing that digging into the man's past will also uncover secrets James has worked hard to guard his entire life. |
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There were some parts of a copper's job you never got used to, even after thirty years of it. Having to inform someone that their child had been brutally murdered. Seeing the cold, lifeless corpse of a witness you'd just spoken to hours before. Getting called out at the arsecrack of dawn... Robbie Lewis blinked awake on the second ring, automatically putting out a hand for the mobile. Bloody thing never stayed in one place. "Sorry, love," he whispered as the phone continued its insistent clamour, drawing himself up on one elbow and opening his eyes blearily – Only to find the rest of the bed empty, as it had been for ten years, and would be forevermore. That was another thing he'd never get used to. |
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Case heavy story with bdsm a major
element. Hathaway whump. |
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