Ahh... back from my Secret Lair of Writing... yes, some writing got done, a lot more outlining got done (finally putting all my screenplay experience to work with structure and suchlike here) and I feel good! Yeah baby! Not nearly up to speed on the word count, but some big pieces are falling into place, so I got lots to write about. Thanks to a comment by The Shadow, I have a new opening sequence. I've decided to write this from the beginning forward, keeping the timeline (for this first draft) relatively linear, instead of zigging and zagging all over the space-time continuum like I had been. I give you the new beginning chunk (yeah, I know it's self-referential with the writing and all, but #1 - write what you know, and #2 - they were both already writers, now they're just sleeping together and in love):
“Egg rolls and scotch, “Gabriel rolled over, slipping one hand over Talila’s breast. “So this is the writer’s life?”
She grinned sleepily, then wiggled a bit closer to him. “For two future Pulitzer Prize winners, I think that about sums it up.” She lifted her head and surveyed the wreckage of their tiny studio apartment. They had graduated yesterday and had celebrated late into the night with friends and family making the rounds at various bars. The party had finally degenerated to the two of them polishing off a bottle of Glenmoranghie while feeding each other the last noodles of Chinese takeout left over from the previous week of final exams. They hadn’t made it to the bed, but had fallen asleep in the middle of the floor, a drunken tangle of limbs reeking of sex, alcohol, and peanut oil.
Gabriel shifted his hand lower, sliding his fingers down her belly, tugging lightly at the navel ring he’d tried to talk her out of, then gently tracing his fingers lower. She sighed, coming fully awake, and tried to roll over.
“Ohhh, I didn’t know graduating would hurt this much.” She clutched at the back of her head, wincing.
Gabriel chuckled and sat up too quickly, then groaned and flopped back down on the carpet. “Yeah, I guess I was being overly optimistic with that whole sitting up thing. Again.”
“Yeah, that’s you. Mr. Optimism all over. Way too fucking cheerful to be human. So where’s the aspirin?”
“I think I took the last of it right before we hit O’Malley’s last night.”
“And of course, you didn’t think to stop off at a drugstore and pick more up before we got to our third bar. Boy Scout… sure.”
“You’re just upset because I drank more than you and I’m not hurting as much.”
“I could fix that, you know. Just because tiny evil little dwarves with sharp hammers are banging away at my forebrain doesn’t mean I can’t share the pain. That’s what relationships are for, right? Sharing?” She flopped back down, landing an elbow square in his stomach.
“Oof! Tali, you are my forever love, but if you don’t get off me I’ll have to dump you in the bathtub and run cold water over you again.”
“What do you mean, ‘again’?”
“You don’t remember that part? Go look at yourself in the mirror. I didn’t do such a good job with getting all your mascara washed off.”
Talila got herself up onto her hands and knees, making a point of using the soft parts of his body, as well as his face, to push herself against on the way up, and crawled across the floor to the bathroom door, where they’d hung a cheap full length mirror.
“Oh gods, I have been possessed by a giant raccoon demon. Weren’t you scared when you woke up and saw this? I’m surprised you didn’t scream like a girl and jump across the room.” Her face was a comedy of streaked mascara, a few blotches of smeared lipstick bright red around her cheeks and nose, and a suspicious smudge of what had to be eyeliner along her jawbone.
“What the hell did you do to me in that shower? How did I get eyeliner on my chin?”
Gabriel grinned at her and blew her a kiss. “I was just trying to help, love. You were in pretty bad shape and I still had plans for you.”
“You gave me shock hydrotherapy just so we could have a celebratory fuck? Did I at least enjoy that part?”
He groaned and rolled his eyes up at her, clutching at his heart with one hand and flopping the other dramatically against his forehead. “I swoon at the lady’s displeasure. Did she enjoy it? Alas, I am not memorable…”
“You have way too much energy for a man with a splitting hangover.” She crawled back toward him, her dark hair swinging around her face, moving like a panther stalking its prey.
“Oh no… you’re going to hurt me now, aren’t you?” He started to skitter crab-wise away from her.
“Damn right I am, and you’re going to like it.” She grabbed one of his ankles, then a knee with the other hand, pulling herself up along his body, lying along the full length of him. He grinned and teased a finger along the eyeliner on her chin, then kissed her. Those Pulitzers would have to wait.
