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Chaos fic: God Complex 1b/13

May 31st, 2012 (06:49 am)

feeling: cheerful

Notes and whatnot in Part 1a .


Confidence was not to be confused with immediacy, and Michael’s key to success at the Agency was patience.

That, and good walking shoes.

And a healthy sense of paranoia.

But patience really did play a role, especially when a mission was still being conceived. He passed the morning going over his mission plan again, tweaking a few things in anticipation, but by lunch he was out of things to do and read the latest best seller from the library instead.

Rick went to a meeting at some point. Casey got out of a meeting at another point. Billy disbanded three meetings by his presence alone. Then, late in the day, Fay called him in.

On the way over he picked up two things of coffee. Inside her office, he placed one gallantly on her desk. “Two sugars and creamer,” he announced. “Just how you like it.”

Fay eyed it, clearly suspicious. “What is this for?”

He sat back, smiling grandly as he took a sip of his own. “Consider it a preemptive thank you for getting me mission approval.”

She hesitated, wetting her lips slightly. “I wouldn’t give it to me just yet, then.”

Michael refused to show weakness. “Oh, come on,” he said. “It’s a slam dunk.”

Fay lifted up the file and pushed it back to him. “I know,” she said. “It’s definitely a case the government is interested in pursuing but there’s a few catches.”

Michael reached out and snagged the file. “What kind of catches?”

She took a breath. “Mostly what you expected,” she said. “The military wants some control in how this goes down. I talked them out of handling it internally but they wouldn’t budge on retaining overall mission clearance.”

Michael shook his head. “You know we don’t work this way,” he said.

“Well, this time you have to,” she said. “And it’s not as bad as you think. They’ll allow you to be in the field but you’ll report directly at the commander at the closest military base.”

Michael was sitting up now, and glancing over the amended file Fay had given him. “No,” he said, insistently. “I’ll call them in for transport when we make arrests, but the mission is mine.”

Fay sighed wearily. She had anticipated this conversation and had her answers ready. “They just want to know what you’re doing and where,” she explained. “You’ve relied on military support countless times in the past. I know for a fact you’ve done missions in conjunction with them before.”

“Not on this level,” Michael said. “If we start making military contact, people are going to get nervous and the entire thing will be compromised.”

Lips pursed, Fay set her jaw. “That’s not what this is about.”

Michael made a face. “That’s exactly what this is about.”

“Oh,” she said with raised eyebrows. “So you’re not just throwing a hissy fit because you don’t get to play God all by yourself this time?”

Michael’s chest puffed up. “It’s my mission.”

Her expression was rueful. “No, it’s the CIA’s mission.”

“And you’re letting things get bogged down in the name of inter-agency cooperation.”

Her eyes sparked. “And you’re letting yourself be blinded by misplaced pride and overzealous ownership.”

Michael didn’t get ruffled often; it was against his nature and usually didn’t serve much purpose. But Fay had an effect on him that no one else had, and when she challenged him, he always felt the need to rise to the occasion. He stiffened defiantly and didn’t back down. “This is my mission,” he said again, more forcefully now. “I can do it best. My team can do it best. And we work alone.”

She deflated a little, but didn’t relent. “All you have to do is play nice with others, open a few lines of communication,” she said in conciliation. “Though I do know how hard that is for you.”

Michael scoffed. “Don’t bring your personal feelings into this.”

“Oh, you mean like you didn’t bring your personal feelings into this by asking me for this favor?”

“This has nothing to do with us,” Michael snapped.

“Maybe not,” she returned without missing a beat. “But this is what it is. End of story.”

She spoke with certainty and finality. It was as much of an order as Michael had ever been given.

Too bad Michael never listened to orders.

Gathering the file, he got to his feet, lifting his chin. “We’ll see,” he said before stalking out.


His team had this annoying perceptive habit of knowing exactly what happened without being told. It was useful most of the time, although it did defy logic and most natural laws of the universe. It could also make things pretty awkward since the idea of a personal life was no longer very personal. At times like this, he sort of wished there were still some mysteries between them.

There wasn’t, though. They all knew Billy drank scotch when he was lonely and composed songs when he was drunk. They all knew that Casey had the busiest social calendar of them all and woke up at 5 AM to meditate. Rick was the easiest of them all to read, and they were readily aware of his inherent gullibility and that he was, in fact, a mama’s boy.

Michael didn’t mind if they knew about his strict personal schedule or the route he ran every morning. But having them privy to the ins and outs of his relationship with Fay was somewhat less kosher.

But no less avoidable.

“So, bad news,” Casey surmised when Michael walked back in.

Michael glared.

Billy lifted his eyebrows. “Very bad news, eh? She’s getting feistier the longer the ink dries on those settlement papers.”

“The mission is a go,” Michael told them.

“So what’s the problem?” Rick asked.

Casey regarded him coolly. “A caveat, no doubt.”

“Of the most fantastic ex-wife variety,” Billy added. “She didn’t recommend another team, did she?”

Michael sighed. “No, she wants us to have it.”

“Are you going to tell us the but or do we have to guess it?” Casey asked.

Michael pursed his lips. “She wants it in conjunction with the military.”

“A babysitter?” Casey scoffed.

“That would probably compromise our cover if we’re not careful,” Rick said thoughtfully, brow creased with concern.

“It’s not happening,” Michael said, his defiance swelling.

“Somehow I take it Fay disagreed,” Billy said.

“She thinks I’m making too big a deal out of this,” Michael explained with a small huff.

“Did she play the God card?” Billy asked in commiseration.

Michael sulked.

“People always play that one like it’s a bad thing,” Casey said with a shake of his head. “As if omniscience, omnipotence and omnipresence is somehow a bad thing.”

Rick frowned, cocking his head. “So what are we going to do?”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. The plan was lurking in the back of his mind, had been since Fay pulled out her stops. He didn’t like it necessarily, but the ends justified the means. Even in a case like this.

He looked at his team carefully. “There is one option left to salvage this,” he said slowly, carefully.

Billy made a face. “Come now, that can’t really be an option.”

Casey shrugged. “It would work.”

“Yes, but at what cost?” Billy said. “I’ve give away a great deal of my soul in this job, and I’m not sure I’m ready to sacrifice the last bit just yet.”

“Would you rather have a drill sergeant mucking up our field mission?” Casey shot back.

Rick shook his head. “What’s the option?”

Billy and Casey fell silent, eyes darting to Michael.

Michael kept himself carefully composed. It went against his better judgment and his natural inclinations, not to mention his well-honed sense of survival. But this was his team, his mission. And Michael would do anything to protect that.


Grimly, he swung around, tweaking his shoulders slightly. Billy and Casey were tense, ready to flinch while Rick watched, still wonderfully oblivious.

“Higgins,” Michael said, simple and matter of fact. “We take it straight to Higgins.”

“Out of the frying pan—“ Casey said.

“And straight into the mouth of hell,” Billy concluded.

For once, Michael found the hyperbole to be painfully accurate.


He didn’t go alone.

Rick was still gun-shy around the director, which made sense considering how easily the man had duped the young agent during his first day on the job. Casey found the entire thing to be a monotonous annoyance but agreed to attend for the sheer force of his presence alone. Billy perked up at the notion of bringing undue frustration to the man until Michael reminded him that they needed to procure his favor, not alienate him.

But they were a team. Where one went, they all went.

Plus, Michael ordered them. And since the ODS has never exactly been great at following orders he also threatened them with a mountain of paperwork if they didn’t come.

Together, they were a formidable force. They’d taken down terrorists and righted international wrongs. So going head to head with the director of clandestine affairs really wasn’t so bad.

Although, it was just as nerve wracking with an opponent as determined as any criminal or international fugitive. Technically, Higgins was on their side and they had worked successfully on more than one occasion. The ODS had done the jobs Higgins couldn’t ask anyone else to do and, in return, Higgins had bailed them out of a few situations.

It was still a tenuous relationship, though. Higgins resented his lack of control over the ODS; he didn’t like having to make deals to ensure things got done correctly. He respected their work but hated their methods and Michael didn’t doubt that if given the chance, he’d cut the ODS loose in a minute.

Michael couldn’t exactly blame him. The ODS took some pleasure in causing headaches, and they had never gone out of their way to make Higgins’ job easier.

Still, when the time for uneasy alliances came Higgins was a viable option.

The trick, of course, was getting him to say yes.

“Let me get this straight,” Higgins said, reclined in his chair and eyeing them carefully. He’d listened to their pitch in its entirety without much comment, and Michael knew the older man was guarding his options. “You want me to defy the wishes of the military, which has a legitimate claim to jurisdiction in this case, so you and your team can gallivant off to Africa with no supervision or restrictions in place?”

That was essentially true, but it was all in how the details were spun. Michael knew that; so did Higgins. So Michael, bolstered by his argument and his record and his team, held his head high. “No, sir,” he said. “I want you to defy the wishes of the military and let my team go in and get the job done right.”

Higgins looked bemused, a smile quirking his lips. “I think you’re forgetting how much I abhor your methods,” he said.

Michael inclined his head but didn’t back down. At his side, his team didn’t waver either. “I’m remembering how much you love our results,” Michael countered.

“Besides,” Casey added with a smirk. “It can’t hurt to scratch our backs every now and then.”

“Especially since we are, in return, excellent back scratchers,” Billy rejoined.

Casey frowned. “You’re taking the metaphor too far.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Billy argued.

“But it’s weird,” Casey said.

Rick cleared his throat and they all fell silent.

Michael didn’t even flinch.

Higgins sighed, sitting forward and putting the file back together. “Fine,” he said, holding the file back out. “But I want all your t’s crossed and I’s dotted on this one. Any lapse in protocol and I will personally pack your personal belongings for you and put you all on the unemployment line.”

This was, of course, the result that Michael had wanted and planned for. But he had to admit he was a little surprised to get it so easily. Not that he doubted his own plotting abilities or his team’s more persuasive qualities, but usually Higgins made them work a little harder for things.

Michael took the file, and paused. “That’s it?” he asked.

Higgins tilted his head. “That’s it.”

“No additional hoops?” Michael asked.

“Not even a few more threats?” Casey added.

“Or perhaps a not so subtly veiled insinuation of impending disaster?” Billy echoed.

Higgins regarded them coolly. “Your team is annoying, reckless, and mostly more trouble than its worth,” he said. “But I still have control, however slight, over you. If I sign off to the military then this thing is entirely out of my hands. When I’m about to risk an international incident I prefer to have some say in the outcome, however minor.”

Michael had to smile because he understood. “For once, I think you and I agree on something,” he said.

Higgins leaned back in his chair. “Yes, well, don’t make me regret that now,” he said.

“We’ll do our best,” Michael said, feeling the adrenaline start to swell in him once again.

Higgins shook his head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”


The rest of the day was busy. While his team could wile away most afternoons waiting for a mission, they were all business during prep work. With this mission, there was plenty to be done. Cover documents needed to be developed: passports, travel information, background stories. The works. They needed to arrange travel, map out a plan, memorize safe havens, and procure the necessary cash.

Michael assigned the tasks and sent his men to divide and conquer. He sat down at the table in their office and laid out their materials, fine tuning the step-by-step process to prepare for all possible contingencies.

A cover of criminal background was almost harder to fabricate than a legitimate one. Criminals had their own credos and trust was not as easily won by a few fake documents. A lot of their success on this mission would hinge on making effective first contact, being effectively believable as nefarious types.

Michael could pull off nefarious if he needed to, Casey and Billy more so. Rick would be a bit trickier, but if they told him to keep his head down and translate he’d do fine. The problem would be not making it too convenient. Criminals were inherently suspicious of people coming in and offering to make life easier. So it had to seem natural; better yet, it had to be the mark’s idea to forge the alliance.

This meant it had to be a matter of convenience. They had a good trace on Vaughan’s activity. They knew where he frequented, which meant they knew where to hang out. If they could use a local asset to get them involved peripherally with the local gangs they’d have automatic street cred.

That should all be doable, and if Billy could sweet-talk them into getting military backgrounds it’d be even easier. Men in uniform always shared a bond, even when they were betraying their country.

Michael was plotting out the different lower level operations they could use to prove their worth to Vaughan when the door opened.

Michael didn’t look up. “If it’s not good news, Martinez, then you should just keep walking,” he said. “I want the satellite images from Vaughan’s neighborhood and from Sunday’s home base. No excuses.”

“No excuses?” a feminine voice asked.

Michael looked up, surprised to see Fay. She had her hands on her hips and she looked amazing.

And angry.

“Like you have no excuse for why you went behind my back and got the mission approved?” she charged.

Michael was not often cowed – not even now – but Fay always did give him reason to pause. First, because she was pretty much the most alluring woman he’d ever seen.

And second, because she was one of the few who didn’t buy into his crap.

He held up a hand in placation. “I told you I’d do what I had to do,” he said.

“By circumventing me and going to my boss?” she asked. “I was doing you a favor by looking into this and you do this to me?”


She didn’t let him finish. “You couldn’t even trust me to do what I do best,” she said. “I mean, I always knew you were a control freak, but I thought you might mellow with age. Silly me, you’re just getting worse.”


She held up her hand and shook her head sharply. “No, I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “I’ve heard your excuses and they all boil down to the fact that you’re a selfish, paranoid bastard who doesn’t know when to just let someone else take responsibility.”

Michael flinched at that because she had hit his soft spot. He didn’t have many and he certainly never advertised them, but Fay knew him better than most. And she wasn’t afraid to say the things his teammates had the courtesy to keep silent. “You know why,” he said.

She shook her head. “You’re delusional,” she said. “You’re actually delusional. Because you think you can do this better than anyone else, that if you’re in control, nothing can possibly go wrong because you can plan for everything.”

“I have a pretty good track record,” Michael said, a bit defensively.

She scoffed. The anger gave way to incredulity. “Someday you’re going to realize that this isn’t your little universe to control,” she said. “Someday something will throw you for a loop and you won’t be able to do anything about it. And because you can’t trust people, there’ll be no one else there to help you pull it back together when you need it most.”

It was a threat as much as it was a warning.

Michael drew himself together, keeping himself steady. “Maybe,” he said. “But not this mission.”

Her smile was bitter and rueful. “Let’s hope not,” she said. “Because two men with Marine backgrounds? An entire faction of militants in Nigeria? If this goes wrong, Michael, you’ll be alone, without backup, with people who will kill you as soon as they will give you a second look.”

“That’s why it has to be me,” he said, resolute in this.

She wet her lips. “Just keep telling yourself that,” she muttered as she turned and walked away.

Alone in the office, Michael watched the empty doorway for a moment before looking back at his plans. It was all there – the asset they’d leverage, the hotel they’d stay at, the setup and the execution. Michael had covers and backgrounds and contingencies all in place to tempt Vaughan into contacting Jenkins, setting up a three way meet and one massive shipment to catch both of them and Sunday in one major coup.

It was carefully scripted, as purposefully composed as a symphony, as artfully crafted as a sculpture. It would work, Michael assured himself. It would work and Fay was wrong.

Resolved, he set back to planning because Fay had to be wrong.


To the uninformed observer, Michael’s routine didn’t change before a mission. He still got up at the same time, still ran the same number of miles, still ate the same frozen dinners and pored over his paperwork until bed.

That was the problem with being an uninformed observer, though. They usually got it wrong.

While the actual events in Michael’s routine never wavered, the intensity was entirely different. He reread the same files fifteen times, making layers of notations and adding sticky notes for things needing amending. He studied maps and double-checked everything until he had every cover detail memorized – for himself and for his team – and all pertinent details on the mark thoroughly committed to memory. He didn’t want any hesitations; not when they could make or break a mission. Not when they could be the difference between life and death.

He also took the geography of the mission to heart. He knew the city where Vaughan lived, the supply routes from there to Jenkins. He gathered as much intel as he could regarding the tribal regions, sketching out a likely layout of Sunday’s compound based on satellite photos and the schematics of comparable structures.

At night, he dreamed of the mission. During his runs, he recited the details to himself. At work, he made revisions, got feedback. When he got back home, the process started all over again.

To some, this might seem obsessive. To Michael, it was necessary. If he didn’t have this perfect, if he didn’t know everything, if he missed something – things could go wrong. Very wrong. For national security. For his team.

Such things were simply not acceptable. Michael had endured loss before; he would not suffer it again. Not on this mission, not ever.

Fay told him he was controlling; Casey said he had a God complex. Both were true, and even if he wouldn’t admit it to Fay he understood the importance of such things. Michael had to be in control of the details, because the idea of walking into a mission without a firm handle on the possible outcome was more than he could take. It was terrifying.

So Michael would study. He would plan. He would perfect.

And everything would turn out okay.

Michael would make sure of it.


They only spent a week prepping, but it felt like months. It was an odd mix of anxiety and anticipation, adrenaline from the thrill or the fear, Michael was never sure, but the end result was always the same. By the day of their departure Michael was practically vibrating.

He’d done everything he could. It was time to see this through.

“Now,” he said, looking purposefully at each of his teammates. “Do we have any last questions?”

“No,” Casey said. “Because you answered all our questions the last five times you asked for last questions.”

“Plus, you did include an exhaustive FAQ section in the mission report,” Billy said, lifting it with a look of mild disdain. “I think I’ve suffered from strain carrying this thing home and back.”

“It is pretty thorough,” Rick agreed.

“Thorough is the difference between life and death,” Michael said, a little firmer than he intended.

“You’re preaching to the proverbial choir,” Billy said, hands up. “Though, if it must be said, young Rick here doesn’t really fit that bill. Proverbially speaking, anyway.”

Rick frowned.

“Sorry, lad, I’ve heard you sing,” he said. “It’s not pretty.”

“It’s not so bad,” Rick insisted.

“For once, I have to go with Collins on this one,” Casey chimed in. “I’ve heard dying cows sound more melodic.”

“Anyway,” Michael interjected harshly, waiting until they each looked back at him. “We’ll be flying in two groups, so any last minute changes need to be cleared here.”

Casey rolled his eyes, clearly bored. “Billy and I will be on the flight tonight, setting up as tourists.”

“I’m actually quite looking forward to the tour group we booked,” Billy said. “I’ve looked at the schedule and I think we should be able to squeeze in the jaunt in the savanna before things get too hairy.”

“Naturally,” Casey said. “I find that observing predators in their natural habitat encourages my stalking skills.”

“It also will give you both ample opportunity to travel throughout the city without suspicion,” Michael reminded them. “We need to keep tabs on Vaughan and Sunday as much as possible.”

“So no to the savanna?” Billy asked.

Michael ignored him; he was kidding anyway. At least, in all the ways that mattered. Billy feigned levity but he knew his role. Even if Michael had to ask and remind and pester, he trusted Billy and Casey.

“Rick?” Michael asked, turning his attention to the youngest member of his team. He didn’t doubt Rick’s loyalties, but someone without as much field experience was naturally a bit more of a liability.

Rick nodded readily. “We’ll be on the morning flight,” he said without hesitation. “Our first order of business will be to make contact with our asset and start getting our names out there to build up our credentials. Then we’ll wait for the best time make first contact and build the rest of the mission from there.”

“And your cover?”

Casey sighed before Rick could answer.

Billy groaned. “We know our covers,” he said, rubbing a hand through his hair. “We know the mission. We’re ready, Michael. Even a paranoid bastard needs to know when to let go. Just a little.”

Michael wanted to protest, but Billy’s blue eyes were piercing. Casey’s deadpan stare was hard to argue with. Even Rick’s plaintive gaze said enough.

He sighed. “I just can’t have any screw ups on the ground,” he explained.

“Never fear,” Billy cajoled. “This is an ODS mission.”

Casey snorted. “A little screwing up is simply par for the course.”

This was the truth; it was also Michael’s comfort.

If it was also his curse, he wasn’t about to admit it.


Michael didn’t actually care very much about traveling. To some, seeing the world might be one of the most alluring reasons to become a covert operative for the CIA. After all, it looked pretty glamorous in spy novels and thriller movies. Attractive people jetting the globe, fending off evil and having hot sex with equally attractive foreigners.

Michael knew he didn’t have movie star looks and while Fay had agreed to have sex with him in Paris on their honeymoon, that was about as much action as he’d managed to have overseas. He did fend off evil, but it was far less movie worthy than the entertainment industry often wanted to have people believe.

The fact was that it rarely mattered what country he was in. The sights, be they spectacular or mundane, were really an afterthought when a mission was actually going down. After all, when he was fighting for his life and trying to not get killed he wasn’t exactly stopping to take pictures.

Of course, that didn’t mean that he was without preferences. He liked Paris for all the obvious reasons and one might correctly suspect that missions to inner city Nigeria were not exactly high on Michael’s list of favorites. It wasn’t just the heat or the mosquitoes; it was the uncanny sense that everyone was packing and just looking for a reason to blow his head off.

That wasn’t true, and Michael knew it on some level. But he was a paranoid bastard. The only reason he didn’t suspect the same thing in France was because he figured the French had their noses too far up in the air to even consider him as a potential threat at all.

Still, a mission was a mission and Nigeria was perhaps not Michael’s favorite spot, but it ultimately didn’t matter. The sights and sounds of foreign cultures had ceased to amaze him after all these years. Now he could hardly remember a time when they did.

Martinez was another story entirely.

There was still something of wide-eyed wonder in the younger operative, which was as refreshing as it was frustrating. Sure, it was good to have someone around to remind him why he got into this game, to remind him that not everything in life had to be a dark and twisted mess, but really. Michael had never been like that.

“It’s amazing,” Rick mused.

Michael shook his head, hoisting his luggage out of the taxi and settling it on the curb. “No, it’s not,” he said.

Rick frowned, standing next to his own luggage, already on the street. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

Michael paid the driver, who nodded politely and slammed the trunk, scurrying back toward the driver’s seat. “I don’t have to know,” he said decidedly. “I just know it can’t be amazing because there’s nothing here to be amazed about.”

Rick’s look turned from question to frustration. “You are readily dismissing an entire culture,” he said, nodding out toward the street. “It’s not your stereotypical beauty but it’s vibrant, real. It is amazing.”

“It’s life,” Michael concluded, barely affording the busy street a glance. It looked like he expected it to, comparable to other African cities and fairly well depicted from his time on Google Maps. “And our mission is to blend in, not gawk like a tourist.”

Rick scowled, looking noticeably nonchalant as an actual tour group convened up the street, lining up outside a charter bus. It took a moment, but Billy and Casey were easy to spot, especially since Michael knew to look for the Scot’s tall, spiky hair and Casey’s stout build. Casey was holding a map, saying with conviction, “No, I remember it very specifically, complimentary lunch on group tour days is very explicit.”

Billy was snapping photos of nothing and everything.

Rick grew sullen.

Michael ignored him, pulling his luggage past him toward the hotel entrance. “Wonder and awe have their place,” he said, quiet and discreet. “It’s not on a mission. Not with covers at stake, not with lives at stake. Awe and wonder are distractions. Awe and wonder can get you killed.”

For a moment, Rick looked something like a kicked puppy, hurt deep in his brown eyes. Then, Rick looked like he might hate Michael.

Michael didn’t linger to see it. Instead, he kept walking, because he knew that Martinez would hate him for a second, and then he’d fall in line. Because wide-eyed wonder or not, Martinez had the makings of a good operative. Necessary detachment wasn’t always his natural inclination, but he was smart enough to recognize its place.

Michael was counting on that, anyway. Just like he was counting on Casey and Billy to keep an eye on things. Like he was counting on their local asset to play his part. Michael had arranged all the pieces; now, it was time for them to come alive and play the parts Michael had scripted.

There was always a little fear in that, always a bit of hesitation. What if it didn’t work out? What if something went wrong? What if there was an uncontrollable element Michael hadn’t planned on? What if the asset wasn’t convincing? What if Billy wasn’t sufficiently charming to get close enough without being caught? What if Casey wasn’t dolefully abrasive enough to fit in like a western tourist and get a glimpse of what was really going on?

What if Martinez didn’t follow him?

The doubt vanished, though. Billy and Casey had set out on their own, map and camera in hand. Michael’s phone had the asset on speed dial and Martinez started following him, the sound of his suitcase being rolled across the pavement behind him.

All according to plan.

Michael didn’t smirk, but his chest puffed up slightly as he pulled inside, Rick right behind him. At the desk, he smiled. “Hi, I’ve got a reservation for Thomas Vance.”

And the mission began.



Posted by: Lena7142 (lena7142)
Posted at: May 31st, 2012 01:04 pm (UTC)
I want moooorrrrrrreee!!!!

I'm going to be very excited for the next section...

Fantastic character study of Michael in this! I love the way you're exploring his control issues and their impact on his relationship with Fay while still packing this fic with plotty goodness. The scene with Higgins was great.

I can't wait to see how this particular mission goes all pear-shaped (as ODS missions are always wont to do).


Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: June 4th, 2012 11:49 am (UTC)
Re: I want moooorrrrrrreee!!!!
billy bruised

This started as a Billy whump fic but basically became an in depth Michael character study. So. Yeah :)

And plot!! I honestly don't know why my muse does that to me, but I can't fight it.

Thank you!

Posted by: blackdog_lz (blackdog_lz)
Posted at: May 31st, 2012 02:42 pm (UTC)
Hard at Work

Smiling brightly right now. This is already amazing and knowing there will be so much more is exciting.
I love all the little details in the fic and the mission really reads sound and promising.
The next few weeks have definitely improved :)

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: June 4th, 2012 11:50 am (UTC)
billy watches

I normally don't like to go into a lot of detail but this fic just demanded it for some reason. Hence the reason it got so long!

I'm glad you're looking forward to it! I hope it doesn't disappoint!

Thanks :)

Posted by: kristen_mara (kristen_mara)
Posted at: June 1st, 2012 02:43 am (UTC)
Stephen Clouds

I love the team's discussion/musings about the God card *G*

**Billy disbanded three meetings by his presence alone.**

LOL - well, he's just too distracting!!

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: June 4th, 2012 11:50 am (UTC)
billy thinks

Billy is distracting, isn't he? Heavens knows, he's distracted me for over a year now.


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