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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:amberquinn</id>
  <title>amberquinn</title>
  <subtitle>amberquinn</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>amberquinn</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2007-12-24T18:25:04Z</updated>
  <lj:journal username="amberquinn" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:amberquinn:9945</id>
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    <title>Sideswiped: Christmas</title>
    <published>2007-12-24T18:25:04Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-24T18:25:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">These are being written out of order - sorry about that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sideswiped, the series&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://amberquinn.livejournal.com/9611.html"&gt;1st Fic - Sideswiped, Part I&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd Fic - Sideswiped, Part II&lt;br /&gt;3rd Fic - Sideswiped: Africa (coming in the next couple of days)&lt;br /&gt;4th Fic - Sideswiped: Christmas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sideswiped: Christmas&lt;br /&gt;by AQ&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating:&lt;/b&gt; PG, fluff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Slashing:&lt;/b&gt; James/Richard/Jeremy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Series:&lt;/b&gt; set after &lt;b&gt;Africa&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Warning:&lt;/b&gt; the series follows Richard's accident and there will be references to it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In three households across the country, like in so many households across the country, three generations of families sat in festive, wrapping-paper-strewn rooms listening to the excitement of kids and the happy, gentle jokes of grandparents while the lunch cooked slowly in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in these three households in particular, three men separated by a hundred collective miles took some time out to sit under the Christmas tree and open two gifts that had been left behind in the earlier present raid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Oxfordshire, Jeremy sat cross-legged with the lowest branches of the real Norwegian fur inches from his face and picked up the rectangular box the size of his palm wrapped in shiny green paper with a gold bow on the top.  There was no tag, just three words written in black in messy handwriting, 'Jeremy from Richard'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cufflinks, he thought to himself as he peeled off the Cellotape and carefully unwrapped the gift.  But he was wrong.  Lifting the lid the stared at the contents, sitting on a scrunched up piece of gold tissue paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Africa, summer 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The thing said, 'with whatever money you have left over from the cars, you have to buy beads to make yourselves look more African'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy laughed.  "James, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.  How will beads…."  But he was cut-off mid-sentence when Richard stepped out of the local store with a collection of beaded chokers around his neck and at his wrists.  Jeremy was very rarely rendered speechless.  "Right."  Ten minutes later they were all decked out in beads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy pointed at Richard's finger.  "What's with the ring?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Richard held up his right hand ring finger in a gesture that was surprisingly not all that rude. "I had a couple of Rand left over."  It was silver with a black band running through it from one side to the other.  Cheap, but it looked good on him.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy lifted the ring from the tissue paper.  It was a replica of Richard's from Africa, except that this one was white gold with a yellow gold strip running through it where Richard's had a black band.  Sliding it onto his right ring finger, he started to work through in his mind what he was going to tell his wife about it as he unwrapped the larger present from James.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Richard took his two elicit gifts outside with him, stepping into the gravelled drive of his parents' home.  He knew what the one from James was - he'd walked in on him making them a couple of weeks ago and had been sworn to secrecy.  What he didn't know, what almost brought tears to his eyes, was what James had put in the hand-made photo frames.  Where he'd got the shot, Richard wasn't sure - it looked like one of Andy's - but it was the three of them, taken in Africa.  They were all laughing at something.  Jeremy had snagged Richard around the waist with one arm, James around the shoulders with the other.  Andy, or whoever had taken the snapshot, couldn't have known that it was the day after the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stared at the photograph longer than he should have done, wondering if James and Jeremy liked their rings, appreciated the sentiment.  He hoped he wasn't jumping the gun with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He answered a shout from inside that dinner was almost ready, and called back that he'd be there in a couple of minutes.  Placing the frame carefully between his feet, he opened the gaudy wrapping paper Jeremy had used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James left his sisters to the lunch and snuck out in the garage to open his gifts.  Richard's present - a white gold ring with a deep scarlet band inlaid into it - had taken his breath away, and for a while he'd absorbed its weight and look on his finger - the first piece of jewellery he'd ever worn with the exception of his watch - and he was finding himself getting quickly used to it, unable to stop his eyes from sliding over to appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally he picked up Jeremy's gift, a flat envelope if he hadn't missed his guess, wrapped in silver paper with solid shiny red snowflakes all over it.  An envelope was right, and inside it was a large Christmas card with a snow scene on the front.  Inside that was a hand-written set of instructions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Meet on Jan 7th at Dunsfold at 0900, bring your favourite car (preferably one that can also carry a moderate amount of luggage)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be catching the lunchtime ferry to France and driving up through France, Belgium and Germany to Veile in Denmark where a luxury cottage and a lot of snowy roads awaits us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No cameras, no crew, just us guys.  James, Richard, I love you.  Jeremy.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:amberquinn:388</id>
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    <title>the 'reply to' post</title>
    <published>2005-12-14T20:05:20Z</published>
    <updated>2006-02-18T19:55:42Z</updated>
    <content type="html">This LJ will be Friends Locked.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here will be Top Gear "RPS" - starting with a three-way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my first venture into RPS and this is the only place I'll be posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave a comment and I'll friend you within 48 hours if you want to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Feb 06&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to issues on other communities, and to various TG links now appearing over at the beeb - I'll only 'Friend' established LJ users who don't have empty blogs.  If you're wanting membership under a different user name to your usual one - which I can completely understand  ;-) - please put your actual name in the 'reply' to this message - which are screened.</content>
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