carter x donnelly

How about Donnelly/Everyone. That cool? I think that’s cool. 


Carter doesn’t notice it until he actually raises his voice, and she is just as surprised to hear him do it as she is to notice the effect it has on her - there’s something rough and rasping that shows up behind it when he’s passionate about something and she keeps her questions about how it might sound in other forms of passion to herself.

Szymanski notices it right away,  not meaning to overhear, but he happened to be sitting just behind him when it pushes into his awareness, and Agent Donnelly is on the phone and giving clean, clear, low commands that  he might not mind having directed at him, if there were just a little more interest and husk in the tone.

Reese realizes it when they’re both sitting in the same room, under the pretext of interrogation, and if he lowers his own tone into a curling purr just to see if he can draw that out of the Agent in turn, well he’s been sitting here a long time and this game of cat and cat could stand to be a little more interesting. 

Carter/Donnelly; Carter visiting his bedside after some secret heart transplant recovery thing I JUST DON'T WANT HIM DEAD OKAY. (pkmndaisuki)

I have literally just spent the last week face down in medical information, so I wish I could handwave exactly to the letter of your request but, uh, hopefully this’ll do because a heart transplant isn’t really a plausible fix for thoracic ballistics trauma. I also think he might have been fostering a teensy little (GIGANTIC HULKING) respect crush on Carter.

He’s a mess, she’s a mess, and in that way they match a little bit - but while the predator had passed Carter by as harmless, something in Donnelly had attracted the attention of John’s abductor, and she’d left him her signature in two precise holes that tore as much going in as out.

The human heart is tricky, though - hard to hit, and the doctors and surgeons all said it had a good chance to heal again - that he had a good chance to heal up and  be whole again, though they tossed around careful caveats like ‘limited range of movement’ and suggested that there might have been damage to his spine as the second bullet passed out again, and Carter flexes her fingers in her cast, touches the line on her scalp where glass cut and thinks that she might have gone blind somewhere in the accident.

She knows better though, knows that she was blind - willfully, maybe - long before, and that she had only feigned ignorance of the way his eyes landed on her, the way the tone of his voice turned up and became gentle for her, the way he brought her opportunities like trophies, but always let her prove herself and she swallows hard, because she knows the holes she’s probably left in his chest are even bigger than those the bullets made.