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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sands/Mort Rainey
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: For itzcoatl. ‘Mexico’/Secret Window crossover.
Summary: Plotty, plotty, plotting little bastard.
***
The Southern drawl grates. And the brief spells of sanity are a fucking drag to handle, what with the grief and depression and flat-out refusal to believe. But Mort’s a real whirl, all right. Can amble up spitting and grinning like a good ol’ boy, and easy as pie whack the shit out of a bar. Can take Sands’ worst (best) insults with little more than a tic of the jaw and a, “Now, that ain’t very polite.”
And then—and then Sands gets to reintroduce a vicious backwoods pretty sonuvabitch to the glories of assfucking. Because damned if deep repression isn’t just the nicest toy to practice on.
Shooter thinks Sands is still recovering, thinks he’s controllable. There are some real, real interesting issues under that hat—but yeah. Good as it is, all things must come to an end. And Sands has jangles to tangle, while Mort? Still stuck in his own goddamned rut.
***