mylodon: (jamie 30's)
Because am borderline hacked off (bad ear, two lots of bad teeth, various things which keep popping their heads up and need to be tackled) am cheering self up by posting this daft thing. Dates back to the days when the St Bride's boys were a twinkle in my eye and I was playing around with the characters...

Dear Diary

2nd February 1910

Orlando has gone off to his conference on Differential Calculus; by the time he travels there and back I’ll not have seen him for more than two weeks. Not sure whether I’m happy or sad or even if I’ll miss him. He’s turning back into an old curmudgeon – probably because there isn’t a Nobel Prize for Mathematics. No matter how hard he wishes for one.
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mylodon: (winged victory)
I own Jonty and Orlando (well Charlie does but she lends them out to me) but I don't own the people the Stewarts might or might not have met. (If you need a clue, see tag)

The door to the Stewarts’s drawing room flew open, allowing two dishevelled figures to stagger in and fling themselves on the sofa.

“Pour us both a drink, Jonty, there’s a good boy.” Mr. Stewart’s voice sounded unusually out of breath. “A large one for your mother. It’s been a bit of an afternoon.”
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mylodon: (THE Doctor)
Revision of an old piece of fanfic, but this time to include my St Bride's boys; crossover with Dr Who.

“What have you done? I told you not to touch a thing.”

“I haven’t done anything. I very deliberately kept my hands in my pockets—especially after last time.”
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