A Short Story

While the rest of the team had fallen asleep, I still laid awake lost in thought. We have already been on this plane for nineteen hours and thirty minutes. Which means we only have 20 minutes left on this horrible flight. I started to consider if we should've chosen a different airline, but then I realized I only dislike the 20 hours on this plane. I probably would've enjoyed this plane more if it wasn’t 20 hours. I don’t really know why, because I do enjoy the peacefulness I find on all planes.

Coates took another sip of coffee before going out and returning with Kia Bennett. She introduced her to Akiona and

Booker arrived at the chapel early Monday morning, keen to get his debriefing with Tom over with as quickly as possible. He was professional enough to know he needed to put his disappointment to one side and concentrate on their assignment, but the sting of Tom’s rejection still lingered. He thought they’d made a connection, and he’d looked forward to building a solid friendship with the shy officer. But despite a promising start, he realized he now had no choice but to accept what Penhall had told him. Tom was weird, and his mercurial temperament made it impossible to break down the barriers that kept him at arm’s length. Whether Will was responsible for his brother’s character traits or not was still open for debate, but as far as Booker

The agent kept his gaze locked on Dave, while responding to her. “I have friends in the area.”

When Vivian revealed her face, Cecilia had taken in every inch of it. It didn't show on her, but she was still scanning her old muse. Her old lover. Her old slut. Sure, they'd done rough things, and played around with punishment, but Cecilia had always been careful. She probably would always be so, but there was something else inside of her now, that weren't there back then. An aggressive obsessiveness, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to wrestle free of. She'd lost Vivian, when she'd needed her the most. She wasn't going to let that happen again. She couldn't. A part of her realized then, just how much she needed Vivian. How much she loved her. That love was still there. Only the trust was still stained. Tainted. But trust could be

As expected, when Tom opened his locker the following morning, he found a note from Tyrell. Typed on a ripped piece of paper, the instructions were clear yet concise.

The muttered epitet escaped FBI Special Agent Carter's lips, and whisked through the cold night air as he stared down at the corpse. Despite his hopes when the call had come in, there was no doubt.

“Hey, not bad,” Verin remarked as they entered the hangar where the Thunderclap sat. “That thing as roomy as it looks?” The bounty hunter radiated energy on a level that rivaled Fynta. Jorgan sympathized with the man. He clearly worried about his wife, but forced a cheerful facade for reasons Jorgan would never understand. Cormac did the same when he was nervous, whereas Fynta fought back with snark, and Dorne with research. Aric wondered if he had a coping mechanism, then remembered his reputation for being a hardass.

Deep in his heart, Shiro knew that he loved the man standing in front of him. Through thick and thin the pair had been there for each other, no obstacle would ever be above their love, but that didn't mean that they weren't ready to test limits and push boundaries.

Phenix stood in front of the closed door, his heart pounding and his fist ready to do the same to the heavy, whitewashed, wood panel. Damn the Archaeans to hell! Why wouldn’t they let him wrap up this ludicrous contract in the way he usually did, a simple tag-and-bag transaction. Boom! Pay up.

Arken chuckled softly as he ghosted his fingertips across her trembling forearms. “My gods, you’re so strong ...” he purred, and the huskiness in his voice almost made her gag.

I walked through the familiar doorway of Microsoft on a brisk Thursday morning. I made my way to my office and sank into the new desk chair I had bought the day before. The rain pitter-pattering on the windows and the cool air made my morning much more relaxing than it usually would be thanks to some of my coworkers. Since I had my own office to myself after my promotion, I didn’t have to deal with all of their remarkably unintelligent comments. The morning seemed to fly by. Eventually the sun started to peek out of the stormy coulds, shining light on the water droplets still stuck on the window. This reminded me I should probably go get lunch sometime. Seeing as the sun was out, that meant it should be around 11:30 according to the

The possession also allowed the Host to harness and use the limited technology of the Gods. Although not as powerful as an incarnated Angel in his prime, his dying avatar wouldn’t stand a chance in battle against the Nekrums’ Host.

" Y'ARE very snug in here," piped old Mr. Woodifield, and he peered out of the great, green leather armchair by his friend the boss's desk as a baby peers out of its pram. His talk was over; it was time for him to be off. But he did not want to go. Since he had retired, since his... stroke, the wife and the girls kept him boxed up in the house every day of the week except Tuesday. On Tuesday he was dressed and brushed and allowed to cut back to the City for the day. Though what he did there the wife and girls couldn't imagine. Made a nuisance of himself to his friends, they supposed ... Well, perhaps so. All the same, we cling to our last pleasures as the tree clings to its last leaves. So there sat old Woodifield, smoking a cigar and

Phillip was determined to not let his brother get away with another one of machinations again, and he even began to give thought about what he could do to foil Russell’s plan.