#ltfreckles

"Well, since you're older than me, that would actually put you dying quite a few years ahead of me," Sam pointed out. "I would prefer for us to go at the same time, that way neither has to live without the other. I guess Al can come too, if he wants. I don't even know if we'll age while we're leaping, though."

"If by shining you mean the electricity from the leaps, I guess you can say that." In the original timeline, Paris had died. Sam did rescue him. "Al still isn't completely convinced that you were meant to come with me as I leap but I couldn't think of any other way to ensure that you stayed safe." Alright, maybe it was partially a selfish impulsive decision too. Maybe he needed a constant with him that wasn't a holographic projection. Someone he could touch, who would know that it's him and not think of him as someone else. It's hard to keep his sense of self when he's always seeing new faces in the mirror and has to learn completely new identities on the go every few days. It's exhausting, and he can't believe this attempt to take something, someone, with him actually worked. Maybe he was being rewarded, or maybe he took what he shouldn't have and he will be punished for it, but at the moment he didn't care. He took Paris's hand and traced it gently with his fingers. "I still can't believe it worked."

- we enjoy quiet evenings with a good book and a cuppa tea - we both don’t want children - we kinda have a thing for old sailing ships and like vibrant paintings of them

- military was G’s life, while I have serious issues with any authoritarian folks and being shouted at and whatnot - I know all the movies and tv shows, he knows all the theatre plays - he lives for his job, I honestly just work to get money and do whatever tf I wanna do

   He almost let a sigh escape, but the urgency in the other’s voice had him re-think. Still, Gareth Mallory used to be a SAS soldier, he had climbed up the ladder to the rank of a Lieutenant Colonel. And he couldn’t stand being ordered about. Of course he understood others’ worries about him, seeing that he was Head of MI6. Still he couldn’t shake off the soldier in him. Never would. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you.” Even though he didn’t have a gun. But he wasn’t one to hide behind others and let them catch a bullet for him if worst came to worst.

"Well, you're tiny, what did you expect?" Indy grabbed his arm and easily pulled him forward to illustrate his point. "It's kind of hard not to."

Jon looked at Paris with a look of caution concealed beneath indifference. He trusts Paris, but he's heard many stories of men who were brought down because of trust in a lover who stabbed them in the back. And if Paris was saying this to him now, that either meant he planned to do it, right now, before Archer could do anything about it, or he was letting him know because he would never do it. Archer knew it was the latter. He trusted Paris completely (but there's always a voice in the back of his mind that tells him it could all be an elaborate ruse, or that Paris could turn when it no longer suits him). More than the brief moment of doubt, though, he felt anger that someone would try to turn Paris against him. He leaned back in his chair. There was a cool rage under the surface, but not at Paris. It was carefully controlled by a posture that portrayed him as unthreatened by this information. "The captain?" Archer asked. Only Forrest had a high enough rank for it to be an order expected to be carried out. "Does he think you would turn against me?"

Like hell he is. He stared up at his husband, then grabbed his hand to pull him as close to him as he could manage. "I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. We're staying in bed today. That's an order."