Was it ok? Did it work? *dissolves into anxious puddle*
I've spent the last month and a half agonising over this piece. (It doesn't help that I've had almost no time off to actually sit down and write the bloody thing.) It worked out better than I'd hoped, I think. I'm slightly disappointed I didn't murder you for a third time, but I suppose it's best :-)
THE KISSING. We had to get through the angst to get to the kissing, I'm afraid, and there I'm afraid I stretched the limits of believability -- Hornblower talking about his feelings? Pff. As if. But I wanted it to work out so badly between them. And it did. And then I couldn't get them to stop kissing, and every time I thought about this story it would just be kissing and them not wanting to do anything else (get OFF Bush's lap, Hornblower, you have a ship to run! Much as we'd all like you to stay there.)
May the winds be foul for England! I mean, considering it's taken them a week now to cross the Bay of Biscay... they're pretty close to Brittany right now, if not a day away from Plymouth.
And speaking of Plymouth: Maria. I don't know if I'll ever write it, but Maria essentially knows. I couldn't bear it if she didn't. She knows her husband loves her (even if he doesn't know it himself) but she also knows they don't share the same kind of connection that he shares with Bush. I think as soon as Hotspur lands in England Maria goes to Bush and gives him a speech about "please sleep with my husband and stop him from being so moody."
And I don't care, but she lives in this verse. Canon can kiss my artichokes. She lives, and she goes on to become Lady Hornblower, and she goes on to live a fairly happy life with her husband and his husband.
P.S. I very much hope this satisfied your "only one bed" request. I never meant for it to be so angsty - or so long - but the characters had other ideas, I swear.
no subject
I've spent the last month and a half agonising over this piece. (It doesn't help that I've had almost no time off to actually sit down and write the bloody thing.) It worked out better than I'd hoped, I think. I'm slightly disappointed I didn't murder you for a third time, but I suppose it's best :-)
THE KISSING. We had to get through the angst to get to the kissing, I'm afraid, and there I'm afraid I stretched the limits of believability -- Hornblower talking about his feelings? Pff. As if. But I wanted it to work out so badly between them. And it did. And then I couldn't get them to stop kissing, and every time I thought about this story it would just be kissing and them not wanting to do anything else (get OFF Bush's lap, Hornblower, you have a ship to run! Much as we'd all like you to stay there.)
May the winds be foul for England! I mean, considering it's taken them a week now to cross the Bay of Biscay... they're pretty close to Brittany right now, if not a day away from Plymouth.
And speaking of Plymouth: Maria. I don't know if I'll ever write it, but Maria essentially knows. I couldn't bear it if she didn't. She knows her husband loves her (even if he doesn't know it himself) but she also knows they don't share the same kind of connection that he shares with Bush. I think as soon as Hotspur lands in England Maria goes to Bush and gives him a speech about "please sleep with my husband and stop him from being so moody."
And I don't care, but she lives in this verse. Canon can kiss my artichokes. She lives, and she goes on to become Lady Hornblower, and she goes on to live a fairly happy life with her husband and his husband.
P.S. I very much hope this satisfied your "only one bed" request. I never meant for it to be so angsty - or so long - but the characters had other ideas, I swear.