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31_days2006-08-06 06:03 pm
dqbunny.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-08-06 06:03 pm
[August 6] [In Death] Flights of Fancy
Title: Flights of Fancy
Day/Theme: August 6 : "Armed with love's weaponry he rides on beauty's steed."
Series: "In Death" series by J.D. Robb
Characters/Pairing: Eve and Peabody, with mentions of Eve/Roarke
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The In Death series and its characters are the property of J.D. Robb/Nora Roberts and not mine. For anyone confused about this author's policy on fanfiction, they can refer to this post.
"Armed with love's weaponry he rides on beauty's steed." Peabody lowered the book slightly and gave a wistful sigh.
Eve shot her partner a dark look. "No drooling on the evidence, Detective."
Peabody rolled her eyes. "Where's your sense of romance, Dallas? You're hooked up with Roarke. Surely your mind has taken flights of fancy every now and then about your knight in shining armor riding in on a beautiful steed to save you."
Eve carefully set the book of Arabian poetry held down. She was already annoyed at the fact that their latest killer had a fondness of quoting poetry from these obscure works. Roarke had copies of the books with the lines in them in his library, but none of the complex texts were indexed for computer use. That meant going through these books by hand, which pissed her off even further.
"Flights of fancy, Detective?"
If Peabody heard the warning note in Eve's voice, she was choosing to blatantly ignore it. "Look at this place, Dallas!" She made a grand sweep of her arms to indicate the library which was, like every other room in the house, monstrously big. "It's bigger than the Library of Congress, and a hell of a lot more comfortable. You have got to have shagged Roarke on one of these couches."
"Shagged?"
Peabody shot her an exasperated look. "You know! Have sex! Do the mattress mambo. The horizontal boogie. The..."
"Enough!" Eve snarled and snatched the book away from Peabody. As a matter of fact, she had had sex with Roarke in the library several times, the most recent being about 30 minutes before her partner arrived at the house that morning. Not that Peabody needed to know this, of course. "We are trying to solve a murder here. Remember that concept? Where really bad people skewers innocent people with really sharp objects and we're the good guys out to capture the bad guys?"
"Fine then," Peabody sniffed and picked up another book. "I'm just trying to use my imagination. You could benefit from using yours from time to time."
"What I could benefit from is you shutting your mouth and using your brain to analyze the particular pieces of poetry our suspect has chosen rather than imagine Roarke shirtless on the back of some stupid horse."
Peabody's eyes lit up. "See? You do have an imagination! I wasn't imagining Roarke shirtless at all. Though come to mention it..."
"Peabody!"
"Shutting up, sir."
Day/Theme: August 6 : "Armed with love's weaponry he rides on beauty's steed."
Series: "In Death" series by J.D. Robb
Characters/Pairing: Eve and Peabody, with mentions of Eve/Roarke
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The In Death series and its characters are the property of J.D. Robb/Nora Roberts and not mine. For anyone confused about this author's policy on fanfiction, they can refer to this post.
"Armed with love's weaponry he rides on beauty's steed." Peabody lowered the book slightly and gave a wistful sigh.
Eve shot her partner a dark look. "No drooling on the evidence, Detective."
Peabody rolled her eyes. "Where's your sense of romance, Dallas? You're hooked up with Roarke. Surely your mind has taken flights of fancy every now and then about your knight in shining armor riding in on a beautiful steed to save you."
Eve carefully set the book of Arabian poetry held down. She was already annoyed at the fact that their latest killer had a fondness of quoting poetry from these obscure works. Roarke had copies of the books with the lines in them in his library, but none of the complex texts were indexed for computer use. That meant going through these books by hand, which pissed her off even further.
"Flights of fancy, Detective?"
If Peabody heard the warning note in Eve's voice, she was choosing to blatantly ignore it. "Look at this place, Dallas!" She made a grand sweep of her arms to indicate the library which was, like every other room in the house, monstrously big. "It's bigger than the Library of Congress, and a hell of a lot more comfortable. You have got to have shagged Roarke on one of these couches."
"Shagged?"
Peabody shot her an exasperated look. "You know! Have sex! Do the mattress mambo. The horizontal boogie. The..."
"Enough!" Eve snarled and snatched the book away from Peabody. As a matter of fact, she had had sex with Roarke in the library several times, the most recent being about 30 minutes before her partner arrived at the house that morning. Not that Peabody needed to know this, of course. "We are trying to solve a murder here. Remember that concept? Where really bad people skewers innocent people with really sharp objects and we're the good guys out to capture the bad guys?"
"Fine then," Peabody sniffed and picked up another book. "I'm just trying to use my imagination. You could benefit from using yours from time to time."
"What I could benefit from is you shutting your mouth and using your brain to analyze the particular pieces of poetry our suspect has chosen rather than imagine Roarke shirtless on the back of some stupid horse."
Peabody's eyes lit up. "See? You do have an imagination! I wasn't imagining Roarke shirtless at all. Though come to mention it..."
"Peabody!"
"Shutting up, sir."