quigonejinn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quigonejinn) wrote2006-09-05 11:24 pm
quigonejinn) wrote2006-09-05 11:24 pm
Entry tags:
If Water Was Dry.
How much do I want to see Paul McGann on an episode of Nip/Tuck? A whole fucking lot. How much would I give for the time, creativity, and energy to write a full-scale treatment of a PMG/N-T crossover? I'M SURE I WILL FIND OUT.
One of the peculiarities of Naval service is that two men might serve together for over a decade, become the closest of friends, fonder of each other than any other man on earth, and yet, remain vastly ignorant of each other's personal details: for years on end, men lived in closer quarters with each other than they lived with their wives when ashore, but conditions aboard a ship of the line did not encourage intimate conversation.
Consequently, Bush never learned that his captain was tonedeaf. He knew Hornblower's methods in war, and he knew Hornblower's style of sail. He even knew that Hornblower was not fond of music and had a vague recollection that Hornblower never joined in the singing in the wardroom either when he had been a lieutenant or when he visited it on subsequent occaisions, but he put this down to his dear friend's reserve. He agreed, after all, with Hornblower's reserve; it was one of the things about Hornblower's performance of his duties as captain of which Bush most approved. When Bush told stories about Hornblower's early triumphs to the wardroom, he would, in fact, point to this restraint as a sign that their captain was destined for the broad pennant.
Consequently, Bush never put it together. He attributed Hornblower's inability to identify "God Bless the King" as played by the Papillon to preoccupation with more important matters; Hornblower had smiled at him, after all, that night when they had celebrated his first command and Bush had sung "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" to him. They had become very close that night, and it would have much sooner occurred to Bush that water was dry or that devotion was not, in fact, a part of love.
One of the peculiarities of Naval service is that two men might serve together for over a decade, become the closest of friends, fonder of each other than any other man on earth, and yet, remain vastly ignorant of each other's personal details: for years on end, men lived in closer quarters with each other than they lived with their wives when ashore, but conditions aboard a ship of the line did not encourage intimate conversation.
Consequently, Bush never learned that his captain was tonedeaf. He knew Hornblower's methods in war, and he knew Hornblower's style of sail. He even knew that Hornblower was not fond of music and had a vague recollection that Hornblower never joined in the singing in the wardroom either when he had been a lieutenant or when he visited it on subsequent occaisions, but he put this down to his dear friend's reserve. He agreed, after all, with Hornblower's reserve; it was one of the things about Hornblower's performance of his duties as captain of which Bush most approved. When Bush told stories about Hornblower's early triumphs to the wardroom, he would, in fact, point to this restraint as a sign that their captain was destined for the broad pennant.
Consequently, Bush never put it together. He attributed Hornblower's inability to identify "God Bless the King" as played by the Papillon to preoccupation with more important matters; Hornblower had smiled at him, after all, that night when they had celebrated his first command and Bush had sung "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" to him. They had become very close that night, and it would have much sooner occurred to Bush that water was dry or that devotion was not, in fact, a part of love.
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One of the many things I love about your fic is your ability to crystallize everything down into one line.
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Incidentally. This weekend,
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But they did have this mustard. omg. BUSH MUSTARD. *cries* It was that whole mustard seed stuff that was really strong and really tart with the vinegar. Man, if I had my purse or some place to shove it in my pants I would have walked out with the whole jar. XD
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*adds Kildare's to the list of places that she needs to visit when she returns to the land of decent food*
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I resisted my Dago leanings even though the Proscuitto and Provolone sandwich was calling my name, and tried one of the hamburgers as they came well recommended. And it was damn good.
They don't have mutton, but they do have Irish lamb stew which could pass in a pinch for the dinner
datewith the boyfriend at the end of LtH. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE THEY HAVE THE MUSTARD. omg.Some nights/days they have live traditional Irish music, which sounds like fun.
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and OMG NIP TUCK. Wasn't that just so OH last night? Nothing like a double whammy of soft core in the first ten minutes of the episode.
and PMG in front of the McNamara Troy desk? I'd pay cash money to see that.
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For some reason I just love this line. It just says so much, and captures the idea of this entire ficlet.
Love the last line, too.
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And there's SPN fic eating the side of my brain out. I blame you.
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lovely little fic
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1) McGann goes in for a nasal septum reconstruction. And Christian suggests a ball lift. XD
2) We haven't figured that out. I say Kimber and/or Christian, but really, I'm v. flexible. :D
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I've always thought it rather sad that Hornblower is tone-deaf... but if that stops me slashing 'im with composers as well as artists, then all to the good! Plus, if weren't for his tone-deafness, we wouldn't know that he hunted through Ovid for the dirty bits ;) Hehe.