thing of mine

Leading Suspects - Chapter 8

Only because I love you, and I know you want it, and Mondays suck major balls, I present to you a second chapter in one day, @peetabreadgirl. Hopefully this will soothe your needless fears about Delly. ;-)


“I’ve got my eye on you, fleabag,” I mutter as I kneel on the couch backed against one of the windows and stare out at Whiskers as he slinks through Madge’s rose bushes. He lifts his head, eyes glowing eerily in the streetlights as he searches the side of the house, as though he heard me and is searching for the source of his imminent demise. I sigh and try not crawl out of my skin. It’s only been one full day back in town and I’m already going berserk.

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Leading Suspects - Chapter 7

I know, I promised updates a lot sooner that this. Sorry @peetabreadgirl. Life got a little crazy this weekend. So, for your enjoyment….Chapter 7 below.


“Do you need anything, Madge?” Peeta asks for the fiftieth time this morning and I stiffen in an attempt to not fly apart with tremors while Madge pats my hand.

“Not at the moment,” she says and he nods brusquely before heading back around to the yard.

“I’m fine, too, thanks for asking,” I grumble once he’s out of earshot.

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archiveofourown.org
After the Storm - talesofsymphoniac - Tales of Series [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

“‘Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty,’ she said casually, as if she hadn’t been sitting here for hours waiting for the princess to rise.”

Or, the Rose/Alisha scene we deserved in the season 1 finale.

Written for Day Two of Rosali Week 2017: Your smile is forever in my mind.


Rose shut her eyes, listening to the chaos outside: the clanking of soldiers rushing about, orders being called, the whinnies and footsteps of warhorses. The leader of the Sparrowfeathers and the Scattered Bones should have been in the midst of that chaos, or in the background of it, calling the shots and letting her followers know how they would proceed.

Instead, she was sitting on the hard ground of the inside of the princess’ tent. Waiting. Not an unusual part of her job, but one she never enjoyed during the moment. The thrill of outsmarting an opponent, of finding them vulnerable and cornered, of catching her suspect in the act: those were what she loved. The patience and the waiting were the dull parts, the parts that she forced herself through for the sake of the mission.

Rose was more of a woman of action.

So she was in a much better mood when the lump in front of her began to make rustling sounds, and then quiet little groans. Rose suppressed a smile, eyes opening, because this was what she had gone through all that waiting for.

[Read the rest on AO3]