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29 October 2006 @ 01:37 am
Numb3rs Fic: Instruction  
Posted to numb3rs_slash

Title: Instruction
Pairing/Characters: Don/Ian
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Sniper Zero, Toxin, Spree, Two Daughters, Longshot
Summary: Don and Ian clashed when they were both instructors at Quantico
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ

He's fresh from the field and far from green, but this is Edgerton – a man worshiped on multiple continents for his prowess.

And his marksmanship too.

He deludes himself into thinking it'll be a competition for who's the ultimate alpha, but deep down he wants this, wants to find someone strong enough to take control away from him.

No one's ever been able to.

But Ian? He just might.


They're instructors, so no one blinks when they book a late night tac session in the remote outbuildings used for training. Live rounds, they mark the request, so the area will be cordoned off for safety, even though they have no intention of using real ammunition.

It wasn't Don's idea or Ian's. Somehow they both just understood it had come to this – a confrontation. They were either going to fight or fuck, maybe both, but they'd been butting heads ever since Don had joined the faculty at Quantico and it was more than staff tension making them go at it on a regular basis. Even their boss had told them to just work their shit out.

Weapons seemed like the best way to get that done.


The flag is up when Don arrives, even though he's ten minutes early.

The site's live.

Ian's already in there.

Don checks his gun and his clips twice to make sure all his rounds are blanks, then steps over the barrier into the zone. He misses the weight of the Kevlar over his chest, but knows it would only get in the way tonight.

His success in the field was mostly due to his ability to get inside the fugitives' heads. The assistant director told him he should have gone into profiling instead, but Don craved the adrenaline rush of field work too much to just sit around and think about criminals.

Ian knows his background though. He'll anticipate being profiled.

Does that mean he'll do what Don doesn't expect him to do, or does that mean he'll expect Don to assume that Ian won't do what's expected which means he'll do what he initially expected just to throw him off?

Oddly Don wishes he had his brother Charlie to help him with unraveling that conundrum, but the idea of Charlie – ivory tower Charlie – doing FBI work is pretty far fetched.

He makes his decision how to proceed and moves into the darkness, his footsteps hopefully silent enough to elude the Bureau's best.


Ian has to have moved.

Don cleared all three buildings twice and Ian was nowhere to be found.

Frustrated and impatient, he tries not to be careless, noisy. He knows that's when Ian will appear, just as he lets his guard down for a split second.

So he waits.

And waits.

He's about ready to head outside and scream for Ian, convinced he left him there alone to humiliate him when he hears a click behind his head.

"Don't move."

Don freezes, despite the fact he knows Ian won't shoot.

A cold chuckle behind him tells him that Ian's gloating.

"Looks like the teacher could use a little instruction."

"Oh, really?"


The furniture in the room is all broken.

It's either been thrown or used as a weapon.

Disarming Ian had been difficult but not impossible for someone of Don's tactical expertise.

Take a gun away from a marksman and what do you have?

A really fucking strong bastard with a drive to win apparently.

Don's aching, sore and bleeding in more than one place.

Ian's at least breathing heavily now, so Don feels some sense of accomplishment.

"Had enough?" he taunts.

"Me?" Ian tosses back. "I'm just getting warmed up."

Ian's got a chair leg in his hand and Don's got a towel bar ripped off the fake bathroom wall.

In the back of his mind Don knows he'll have some explaining to do tomorrow when people see the bruises and how badly they wrecked the place, but for right now all he wants is to beat the shit out of Ian and erase that smug grin from from his face.

Unfortunately Ian's probably thinking the same thing.



Don stumbles a split second after he realizes Ian has been subtly backing him up so he'd trip over the remains of the table they destroyed earlier.

It's a tiny opening but Ian's on it, tackling Don while he's distracted.

"God damn fucking bastard!" Don yells, the fight renewed in him once he feels vulnerable with his back to the floor and Ian on top of him, trying to pin him down.

He gets a leg under Ian and kicks him away, pouncing on him quickly, trying to pin him himself.

Ian's strong – they're too evenly matched in hand to hand – and they roll around amidst the detritus trading off the upper hand so quickly no one keeps the advantage for long.

They roll dangerously close to the stairwell and that gets both of their attention.

"We fall down the stairs like this and we could get seriously hurt," Don warns.

"We're not going down the stairs," Ian counters. "At least you're not."

Ian attacks Don with a renewed vigor, managing to pin one hand while Don rains down blows with his dominant hand, blows he knows have to hurt.

When Ian appears to be weakening, Don pushes up with his legs against the floor and knocks Ian over, making him tumble down the stairs.

Ian curses on the way down so Don knows he can't be hurt that bad.

Before he can gloat though he tries to sit up and finds himself handcuffed to the banister.

"What the..."

Ian stands slowly, taking his time now that Don's not a threat.

"Well... Now we're getting somewhere..."


Ian waits at the bottom of the stairs, catching his breath and watching Don try all his tricks to get out of the cuffs.

"Ready to give up yet?" he calls out.

"Bastard," Don curses under his breath.

"How about a truce?"

Don pauses, suspicious. "Not much of a truce if you've got me cuffed," he calls back down.

"Perhaps not," Ian muses, sauntering up the stairs, his slow gait belying the pain of his fall. "But I'd like to come back up the stairs without being kicked back down them."

"Fine," Don mutters. "A temporary truce."


Ian stands before him, close enough to attack – a sign of trust in the truce apparently or an olive branch to Don.

"That cut over your eye is bleeding pretty bad."

Ian's hand reaches out to touch his face. His fingers barely graze Don's temple, but the contact is searing – nothing like the violence that came before.

"Let me get something for that."

"No!" Don says hurriedly, but Ian's already pulled his hand away and ducked into the bathroom.

"No running water in this place, but there's a towel at least." He emerges with a small hand towel which he folds into a square and presses against Don's brow. "It should stop bleeding in a minute or two."

Ian's close, so close the heat he's generating is tangible. He steps even closer, putting aside the towel briefly to examine the cut, and Don catches the faintest whiff of whatever aftershave or cologne Ian had put on the morning before. The spicy scent is mixed with his sweat and it's intoxicating.

Don unconsciously leans in, drawn to the scent of the warm tan skin beneath Ian's open shirt collar.

When he realizes how near he's gotten it's too late. Ian's noticed.

Ian's hand moves from his temple to his jaw, holding his face still for the second it takes for their eyes to meet.

Ian could punch him right now... Knock him out cold.

Instead he does the one thing Don doesn't expect.

He kisses him.


Whatever Don expected from tonight – argument, fist fight, fucking – it did not include kissing.

Yet Ian's mouth on his is electrifying. His kiss is feral, almost brutal, and Don ignores the sensation that he's the captured prey of a carnivore, being devoured while he's unable to escape.

The cuffs clatter as he tries to raise his arms to touch Ian and the sound rousts both of them back to their situation.

"Since you're a little tied up," Ian says, his tone somehow both conciliatory and predatory, "you should let me help you with this."

His hand slips to the front of Don's shirt and he undoes the first button, letting his hand remain against Don's chest far longer than necessary for the task.

Don swallows hard as Ian's hand descends, unbuttoning each button at a relaxed pace then pulling his partially untucked shirt out of his pants to finish the job.

"Now, let's take a look at my handiwork." Ian raises an eyebrow slyly as he pushes the shirt off Don's shoulders, pulling the sleeve off his one free hand. The shirt pools around his cuffed left wrist, ignored.

Ian's fingers ghost over Don's chest and upper arms.

"Going to be a lot of bruising..." he muses. He leans in, his lips brushing Don's ear as he speaks. "You might need someone to ice you down in the morning."

Ian's been deliberately keeping a little space between their bodies, but now he purposefully allows their thighs to brush against each other, denim against denim. Ian's teeth close around a tender ear lobe and Don can't help but let a little groan escape him.

"Let's have a look at your back, shall we?" Ian's voice is a low growl in his ear. "Turn around."

It's an order.

Don complies.

He stands with his back to Ian, feeling skilled fingers traverse his bare back, craving more contact.

He feels Ian's other hand come to rest at his hip and he leans into it, encouraging it to somehow move, touch, start something.

"There's a small cut, but it's already closed up." Ian's other hand finishes his explorations and comes to rest on his opposite hip. "Shirt's probably ruined though."

"Fuck the shirt," Don mutters.

The hands tighten on Don's hips and Ian rubs his crotch against Don's jeans clad ass.

"That wasn't the article of clothing I was thinking of."

Don's body floods with desire and his head falls back against Ian's shoulder as he grinds back against Ian's burgeoning erection.

Ian's hands slide around his waistband, dipping just inside before emerging to unbutton his jeans. Dexterous fingers slip inside and Don, who's always prided himself on his stamina, is already rock hard and aching for release.

Annoyed at still being cuffed, he tries to use his free hand to push his jeans down, but has to wait for Ian to do it for him.

He hears a rustle of clothing behind him and shivers a little in anticipation.

When Ian returns it's pressed up against him naked, full body – enough to make both of them draw a quick breath at the overwhelming and long awaited pleasure of skin on skin.

Ian's cock is hard against his ass and Don pushes back impatiently as Ian's hands roam his body, sliding through his chest hair to rub against a nipple and brushing against the base of his cock.

"You're good," Ian murmurs. "A real challenge." His fingers close around Don's cock. "I'm just better."

His strokes are quick and assured and Don surrenders to his touch, feeling the pressure build within him, the release he craves nearing.

Before it can happen Ian pulls his hand away.

"Bend over."

Ian's fingers are at his cleft before he can even finish folding himself over the banister.

Don doesn't know where the lube came from, doesn't want to think how much of this Ian might have planned, just wants to be fucked. Now.

Ian's quick to prep him and then he's standing behind him again, cock prodding at his entrance.

"Tell me you want this," Ian demands, and Don can hear how much waiting even a few more seconds is costing him too.

"Just fucking do it!"

Ian's cock spears him without hesitation and he has to brace himself against the banister from the force of that first thrust.

Gasping, his knuckles go white grasping the railing.

With barely a break Ian's pulling out, thrusting back in, rough and careless, just driving hard as he pounds into Don's waiting ass.

Don tries to bite his lip from the delicious pain, but he's panting too hard. Every nerve ending is on fire and he feels like his cock will explode if Ian doesn't touch him, make him, let him come.

A wordless moan escapes his lips as the pummeling escalates and Ian's fingers dig painfully into his beleaguered muscles.

One hand is eventually wrenched free and closes around his cock. It's all Don needs – three strokes in and he's shouting, swearing as he explodes into Ian's fist just as Ian slams home with his final thrust before coming himself with a strangled cry.

They collapse against each other, the banister the only thing holding them up.

Don can feel Ian's forehead resting against his back, feel each labored breath as it slows against his skin.

He shudders as Ian pulls out and takes a few seconds to straighten up, the soreness of the fighting and fucking catching up to him all at once.

He turns in time to see Ian finish putting his jeans back on. As he reaches for his shirt he tosses something small and silver at Don who manages to catch it one handed.

It's the key.

"I've got ice in the freezer at my place already," Ian says, buttoning his shirt. "I'll go get my car so you don't have to walk far. You're all bruised up and the parking lot's across campus."

"You're pretty banged up yourself," Don smirks.

Ian grins back at him. "I can take it." He looks around for his gun as Don unlocks the handcuffs. He finds it and puts it back in the holster, accepting his cuffs from Don once his jeans are back on again. "Downstairs in ten minutes?"

Don nods as he pulls his shirt on gingerly.

Ian heads down the stairs.



"I've got ice at my place too."

Don hears Ian's footsteps pause on the stairs.

"Works for me."

Don smiles as he listens to Ian's distinctive walk fade into the night.

He finishes dressing and starts looking for where Ian might have knocked his gun to during the fight.

It hits him just as he holsters his weapon.

This is the first time he's had the guts to call him Ian to his face.

And the only time Ian's ever called him Don.

Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on October 29th, 2006 08:40 am (UTC)
I confess I posted this month only on specific days because it made a nice pattern on my LJ calendar. The first part was mere chance, but I couldn't help but keep it going. My end of month post will make the pattern perfect and that makes me very happy. (Yes, I'm an odd bird.)

I don't write thoughts.

I'm not a bad writer, I just have certain limitations of which I am painfully aware. I don't write imagery well. I don't do metaphors. I don't write thoughts.

"Argue for your limitations and sure enough they're yours."
(Brownie points for anyone who knows where that quote is from.) ;-)

So this was me trying to a) write thoughts and b) write hot slash. /grins/

When I watched Longshot and found out Don had taught at Quantico the muse immediately gave me Don/Ian at Quantico as a bunny, but didn't provide the actual fic until maybe an hour later. Evidently that was plenty of time for the idea to stew, but the fic ended up taking hours and hours to write when normally I can toss off 8 pages in no time at all. (My record, FWIW, is 40 pages in 24 hours.)

This is not my normal style and as such it didn't flow well. I was concerned about how it was turning out early on and turned to asemic for guidance. We talked out the fic and the dynamics of the Don/Ian relationship and whatever she said it must have worked because once it was done it met with her approval and I know that she doesn't give that out lightly.

So this goes out to asemic for her invaluable insight and advice on this fic and my writing in general. I am eternally grateful for the continued inspiration she brings to me.

Very special thanks to beta iolsai for her assistance with this fic.


Emma DeMarais
rubynye on October 29th, 2006 01:19 pm (UTC)
Re: Confession
Oh, my God, it worked. It absobloodylutely worked.

*pours cold water on head*
Re: Confession - emmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 09:33 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Confession - penguingal on October 29th, 2006 04:39 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Confession - emmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 09:35 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Confession - amoral_angel on October 30th, 2006 02:11 am (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Confession - emmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 09:36 pm (UTC) (Expand)
andiadmiralandrea on October 29th, 2006 09:00 am (UTC)
Wow, that really warmed up a chilly October morning! I always thought that there must be a reason for Don to request Ian in Sniper Zero - that there must be some back story there. And that provides it nicely in spades!

I don't write thoughts or emotions, either. I'm a very visual writer, but I think you did a great job here. I'm very impressed.

Great stuff, thanks for sharing!
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 09:49 pm (UTC)
LOL! I am certain this is not the backstory TPTB had in mind for Ian and Don!

Unfortunately I'm not a visual writer either. I'm good with dialogue and ideas, but not so much with descriptive writing.

I'm working on it though. ;-)


Tya, lost and found: [n3] Targettya_rc on October 29th, 2006 09:24 am (UTC)
Well, your usual style or not, I loved it with a passion.
I have a thing for Ian/Don because of both of them being strong alpha men, and the way you pictured them perfectly fitted the idea I've of them together.
First the fight and then the tension and then Handcuffs!Sex !
Uhuuuh *tries not to hyperventilate*

Seriously, that was in character, beautifully written (you really shouldn't limitate you to what you think are your limitations because you are good at this) and, also, v. v. v. HOT!

*thumbs up*
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 10:02 pm (UTC)
Alphas! Two of them at once is tough to write but *so* fun to read! Yum! I'm still hopeful I can pull off Ian/Billy one of these days...

Handcuffs... Ahh, it was the angle I'd be searching for. I needed them to be equal for a while, then for there to be a power shift. That was it. More than anything, it was the reason - or rather the excuse - Don needed to submit to Ian.

FWIW, I am glad that I'm good at this. I just want to be better so I can write a wider breadth of stories, use different styles when I want to versus being limited by what I've done in the past and so I can add more depth to the stories I do write.

I'm pleased that you liked this one so much. It tells me my experimentations are worthwhile and I should continue them.


Maria: charlie - heart of goldria_kukalaka on October 29th, 2006 11:18 am (UTC)
I feel like I should say something constructive about how well written this is or how perfect the characterisation is...but I'm a little stuck on OMG HAWT!!!!!!!!
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 10:05 pm (UTC)
Hey, leaving someone nonverbal or incoherent after reading a fic is kind of the ultimate compliment, so this is enough to make me happy. ;-)

And yes, very hot! This one even gets to me and I write a LOT of this stuff! Hehehe


irena_adlerirena_adler on October 29th, 2006 12:53 pm (UTC)
Adore fight-to-fuck ... These two going after each other then going after each other ... More than yummy. :)
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 10:10 pm (UTC)
Hee! Nice ways of putting it.

Yeah, no flowers and candy for these two. ;-)

I liked that as alphas they had to fight it out first. Violence is a language these men understand.

Glad you liked it.

dance_the_codedance_the_code on October 29th, 2006 12:56 pm (UTC)
Oh...that was beyond perfect...beyond spectacular...that was...that was majestic.
(no subject) - irisheyeslaughn on October 29th, 2006 01:54 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Instruction - riverotter1951 on October 29th, 2006 04:36 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Re: Instruction - emmademarais on October 31st, 2006 09:40 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - emmademarais on October 31st, 2006 09:37 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - emmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 10:16 pm (UTC) (Expand)
Kristina: Sniperladycaine on October 29th, 2006 07:45 pm (UTC)
*whimper* How can I write an essay on capitalism after THIS!? OMG! *brain dead* All I want is to be a fly on the wall while all this is happening (granted, I would have probably been squished by flying furniture, those rowdy boys...).

Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 10:28 pm (UTC)
Ah, another intrepid soul eschewing academia for porn. Good for you. ;-)

All I want is to be a fly on the wall while all this is happening (granted, I would have probably been squished by flying furniture, those rowdy boys...).

ROFL! Funny and so true! This was a rare fic that came with *complete* visuals. I could see the wrecked room, the chair leg in Ian's hand and the towel bar in Don's - both kind of frozen in ready position, eyeing the other as they waited for them to make a move to counter. And then, well, the handcuffing... ;-) (I think I'll stop there.)

Glad I could give your Sunday a lift.

Thanks for reading and commenting.

NV: Numb3rs - Phone Sexneur0vanity on October 29th, 2006 11:45 pm (UTC)
Gah. I'm going to steal this fic, elope with it to Mexico, share margaritas with it, and have three of its children.

Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 10:34 pm (UTC)

Yes! I was hoping for at least one this fic. Hee!

Gah. I'm going to steal this fic, elope with it to Mexico, share margaritas with it, and have three of its children.

Bwahahaha! I love this! What creative praise!

Hey, when you see a new Series/Universe called Siesta pop up here just remember I told you that I thought of the whole Mexico thing long before you made this comment. ;-)

Then again, it's het so you might not care. /evil grin/

Thanks for the awesome comment!

Cynthia: DI Deep Desire by angeliksmall1trackmind on October 30th, 2006 10:26 am (UTC)
I really like this one! I think it's one of my favorite stories that you've written.

but the idea of Charlie – ivory tower Charlie – doing FBI work is pretty far fetched.

That's a great line. I love the flow and the image of Charlie in his tower.

"We're not going down the stairs," Ian counters. "At least you're not."

That's great! I especially love it because I didn't realize why Don wasn't going down the stairs until Don did. I just assumed Ian was being arrogant and assuming that he had more control than Don.

Whatever Don expected from tonight – argument, fist fight, fucking – it did not include kissing.

That's a great line, too.

I really like that Ian keeps Don cuffed, keeps his power over Don. I think he needs that control, needs to know that he'd "won."

This is the first time he's had the guts to call him Ian to his face.

And the only time Ian's ever called him Don.

And that is an absolutely perfect ending.
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on November 2nd, 2006 11:20 pm (UTC)
I really like this one! I think it's one of my favorite stories that you've written.

Wow. That means a lot. Thank you. /bows head in gratitude/

You know I realized recently just how infrequently I post non-drabble Numb3rs fic. I think the last might have been in like August. I guess I hadn't realized how long I'm holding on to my longer fic in beta since I have so many of them completed but not published. I was kind of surprised by how many comments this fic got, but I guess I really don't publish stories like this very often. Huh... /muses/

but the idea of Charlie – ivory tower Charlie – doing FBI work is pretty far fetched.
That's a great line. I love the flow and the image of Charlie in his tower.

This wasn't a humor fic, but since it was in the past - before Charlie and Don started working together - I couldn't resist the urge to put this in, to remind people that once upon a time Don really felt this way about his brother and never dreamed he'd consult for the FBI.

"We're not going down the stairs," Ian counters. "At least you're not."
That's great! I especially love it because I didn't realize why Don wasn't going down the stairs until Don did. I just assumed Ian was being arrogant and assuming that he had more control than Don.

Oh, he was being arrogant and he did have more control than Don! He just knew that if Don was distracted by thinking he was winning (the punches Ian let him throw) he might not notice until it was too late that his other hand was in trouble like that. Thus proving Ian's superiority and allowing Don to concede dominance to him. ;-) I did want the reader to find out when Don did, not in advance. His WTF? moment, to me at least, was priceless. /grins/

Whatever Don expected from tonight – argument, fist fight, fucking – it did not include kissing.
That's a great line, too.


Thank you. I'm really glad this essentially experimental fic is getting such a good response, especially from people such as yourself whose opinion I really value.

I really like that Ian keeps Don cuffed, keeps his power over Don. I think he needs that control, needs to know that he'd "won."

That's interesting. In my mind it was for Don's sake. Don needed a reason/excuse to submit to Ian and the handcuffs (which captured him after a long and fair fight, thus showing that Ian won this right to claim him) were his. Leaving them in place allowed him to keep that mindset and to be able to claim in his macho brain that *if* Ian didn't have him handcuffed things might have gone differently.

Ah, the male ego... Such a strange bird...

This is the first time he's had the guts to call him Ian to his face.
And the only time Ian's ever called him Don.

And that is an absolutely perfect ending.

Yay! I was struggling with how to close this off and knew there needed to be one final power confrontation, something where Don got a little bit of his back. Getting Ian to agree to come to his place instead of just allowing Ian to boss him around and take him home was important. It kind of follows up on the kiss. If Ian was in this just for a power trip, a fuck to establish his dominance over this upstart new instructor, he wouldn't have kissed him or mentioned ice in the morning. Agreeing to Don's place and calling him Don was a nice way to put them back into more of a peer standing, something I think Ian sees that Don earned by holding his own so well that night.

Bah! Man, as if I don't ramble enough in my Confession posts! Clearly I can't *stop* talking about my stories even long after they're published. ;-)

Thanks so much for your amazing and insightful comments. I enjoyed them and was honored by your praise.


P.S. One side bonus of me writing all this Ian fic is that I get to see all these great Ian icons make an appearance! So cool!
(no subject) - 1trackmind on November 3rd, 2006 07:39 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - emmademarais on November 3rd, 2006 07:59 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - 1trackmind on November 3rd, 2006 08:38 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - emmademarais on November 3rd, 2006 09:22 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - 1trackmind on November 3rd, 2006 08:24 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - emmademarais on November 3rd, 2006 08:34 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - 1trackmind on November 3rd, 2006 09:24 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - emmademarais on November 3rd, 2006 09:30 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - 1trackmind on November 3rd, 2006 09:56 pm (UTC) (Expand)
nigelsnymphet on December 8th, 2006 02:54 am (UTC)
Oh man, this was great. Thanks... I really needed that ;) *Lights a cigarette, slumps back into my chair*
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on December 8th, 2006 06:49 pm (UTC)
LOL! Well, I'm happy to be your fic valet. Just let me know what you're shopping for and I'll bring you some fic from my back catalog to try on. Hehehe
(no subject) - nigelsnymphet on December 8th, 2006 11:44 pm (UTC) (Expand)
nigelsnymphet on December 26th, 2006 08:52 pm (UTC)

I had to come back and re-read this. I am so fed up with those agonizing days prior to and just after PMS. When you get so wound up and turned on nothing will cure it. (Especially when you're alone). So, good fanfic always helps me. ^_^

*Lights up a cigarette* You are a goddess. *Bow* I can't say it enough, I love your work. :D
fanfictionrules on March 16th, 2007 03:02 am (UTC)
Oh man!!!
I've had this fic bookmarked for a while just waiting until I got to Longshot in order to read it but boy was it worth the wait!!! I absolutely love Don/Ian [so much so that I got a plot bunny idea for them and that normally doesn't happen as I can;t write!!!] and find the huge lack of fic greatly disappointing.
So this fic was a huge treat that I shall definitely be reading many more times. Is there any way that I can... uh... inspire you to write more of this pairing???
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on March 16th, 2007 09:24 pm (UTC)
Thanks! I am glad you enjoyed it. I agree there is a dearth of Don/Ian, but I chalk that up to it being very difficult to write two alpha males together. Defining roles is far harder than exploiting existing ones.

That said, as far as inspiration goes, you'd have to talk to my muse. I don't run the show - she does. She decides what to write. I just take dictation. ;-)

She tends not to go for plot bunnies (she has more than enough ideas for fic and doesn't need any more), but she does tend to perk up around chocolate. Hehehe

Honestly, I have no clue when and how she gets inspired by readers. Sometimes someone just asking for a pairing or a series to be continued results in fic. /shrugs/ She's a fickle one my muse, but I would be useless without her.



P.S. Whenever someone says they can't write I challenge them to write a drabble for numb3rs100 (a comm I co-mod). For all their protesting people usually find if they just try they can write. Try it... Best way ever to get the fic you crave is to stop waiting for someone else to custom make it for you and do it yourself.
t_vo0810: don's happiness is a warm gunt_vo0810 on October 10th, 2009 05:23 am (UTC)
don't know how i missed this one the first time! u know what it reminds me of- that delicious ep of BtVS where buffy and spike tear up the abandoned house fighting and fucking. i think don and ian were even hotter! rawr. i will have good dreams tonight
cat_13145cat_13145 on October 26th, 2009 07:57 pm (UTC)
Favourite DOn/Ian story.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on October 26th, 2009 08:23 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I actually think it's my favorite (of those I've written) as well.