State of the Nea

For folks more interested in the cats than the people: DB is doing very well with his thyroid meds. At only 4 doses in, it's impossible to see a difference in him yet, but the ear gel is an excellent method of delivery. Half the time he's purring so hard about being petted with one hand that he barely notices the gel being smeared into his ear by the other.

Last night I had a lovely evening at the fundraiser sing-along for the Prostitutes, Entertainers, and Navigators Institute of Salvation (I'll leave it to the reader to work the acronym out). Thank you again, redpanda13 for prying me away from the pantry.

But it's back to work today. The final spot-sanding and primer painting needs to be done today; while it dries, I'll take a break to write "Last Things Left to Lose" and post. It is a bit nice that this task has built-in breaks.

Tomorrow I've had several invites, but I'm DETERMINED to get the first coat(s) of final paint done; if I work it right, I should be able to make cameo appearances while a coat of paint dries. It's two weeks to goal, and I still have to paint, rip up the old linoleum, install new lino, put in new molding, and (finally!) get & hang the damned shelves.

FIC: The Last Things Left to Lose 1/1

TITLE: The Last Things Left to Lose
AUTHOR: neadods
RATING: PG-13
SHOW/CHARACTER: Torchwood, Ianto
DISCLAIMER: All characters owned by BBC. No copyright infringement is intended. This is not an official tie-in.
T3 Link (under complete stories): a href="http://neadods.livejournal.com/980931.html">The Last Things Left to Lose by lj user="neadods"> (PG-13 | Ianto)


"There's always something left to lose." That's what Jack said the day he killed Lisa. The day he gutted Ianto more thoroughly than any cyber conversion unit could have done.

But Jack was, in a way, right. Ianto still had Lisa's memory left to lose, and he knew how liberally and casually Jack liked to spread retcon around. The night the inventory came up short, missing enough pills to erase two whole years, Ianto stopped his open mourning.

(  But he never stopped hating. )