Log in

No account? Create an account
19 September 2005 @ 11:04 pm
New C/O!!!  
Pairology: A Dyad of Love’s Ramble
sHaYcH and DiNovia

-note from shay: Erin, it’s great to be writing with you again, finally. That we’re in another fandom, with women who are fundamentally different from Seven and Kathryn… well, it doesn’t matter. I still feel like what we have to say binds seamlessly. Thanks for jumping in and playing along.

Note from Erin: Shay, I am writing more now in the last 6 months than I have in the last 10 years. This is largely due to your encouragement, your editing skills, your ideas and your general and gentle nagging. This is an amazing year for me writing wise and I thank you for it. Thanks for letting me share your toys. ;)



disclaimer: these are not my creations, only interpretations. Ownership falls to Dick Wolf etc.

slashy situations ahoy.


she has a rule.

don't sleep with your co-workers. it's pretty simple, that rule.

don't. fuck. your. job.

yeah, yeah she's broken it a time or two.

it's difficult not to. svu. special.victims.unit.

mundanes lean in, drool over sick, twisted details. mundanes go white. nauseous over the gory, unvarnished truth.

only another cop. an ada. someone who's been there. slogged the trenches of human depravity. only they know.

bone deep education that begins with horror and ends with despair.

she knew.

golden halo around glacier eyes that never let anyone in... she knew.

heated conversations, fireworks flashing, pulses racing...

but the rule.

don't. fuck. your. job.

it was the line. the uncrossed taboo that left her spare apartment bare and empty for years.

death comes early death comes mean.

death is the horseman that comes between rules and regulations.

even if it is only a liar's death.


don't. fuck. your. job.

copper fire. velvet voice.

i'm in trouble now, yeah trouble now...

who the hell are you

to come in and make me want to break all my rules?


if you went home i'm gonna kill you…

oh shit

shit shit shit shit not again oh shit

fuck the rules.


she walks in beauty and comes out clean.

olivia stands in casey's doorway and wonders if she can speak.

her tongue breaks the barrier of her lips.

"have dinner with me, counselor."

crimson and clover over and over. her hand swipes through hair that is a ruddy blonde somewhere between dye jobs and a sigh of exasperation and weariness fill the room.

"I don't have time for Chinese, Detective."

the smile that twitches the corner of her lips is wry and sad.

"out, casey. i mean, let's go out. have dinner. dance." she leans against the doorframe, closes her eyes, counts the heartbeats that pound the age old rhythm.

don't. fuck. your. job.

there is a shuffling of footsteps. a wafted scent of aromatic perfume brushes by, teases her, and entices her to open her eyes and look, but she doesn't.

"come out on a date with me, counselor." her voice is soft, and so weak that she begins to wonder if she spoke at all.

"Liv I -"

Never in one Million Milennia did Casey Novak think This Would Be The Day.

With her hair held back and her tight jeans in the laundry only wearing the scuzziest of scuzzies.

When chocolate eyes opened and glistened in dim light, Casey realizes that it's too late to bother. She is lost, drawn in, swirl down, spiral out.


return to me return to me return to me leave me no choice but to open everything and Casey falls.

"Olivia." It's whispered. Breathed out as their lips linger between pass or play.

"casey. Casey. Come with me. Let's break the rules today."

she would have smiled, if her mouth wasn't otherwise occupied.


writer’s note: Yes, I have a decent working knowledge of grammar. In this case, I used textual cues to assist the flow of the story.

Razz me: shaych3@yahoo.com


by DiNovia

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I just use them for a little bit and then put them back on Dick Wolf's shelf.

SVU with C/O ahead.



She understands why they're there, how they protect the accused from powers too large and invasive to fight alone. But sometimes they stand between the victim of the crime and the justice they are owed and that just doesn't sit right with Casey Novak, Assistant District Attorney.

She's broken the rules a time or two. Or a time or two too many, if she's honest with herself.

And why?

She knows why but won't even think the words. Because it isn't altruism that guides her actions or compassion or even the promise of justice. It's a pair of sad, soulful eyes and a need so wide, so deep, that she's been afraid to leave the solid ground beneath her feet even for one minute, lest she drown.

So, instead, she breaks the rules.

She knows it will come back to haunt her one day.

Censure. Disbarrment. Maybe prison.

But she is already haunted--by those beautiful mocha eyes--and suffering the consequences of her own actions seems so arbitrary in comparison.

She almost laughs on some days. She has enough courage to fly in the face of recognized legal procedure but not enough to caress Olivia Benson's soft cheek with the backs of her fingers.


Sometimes, when she's feeling mean and out of sorts, Casey blames her cowardice on her.

The blonde who went before. Icy eyes and sharp words and no confidence in anyone else. Except for Liv.

It is inexplicable, like the difference and the sameness of the Trinity, but the SVU squad still seems to be bound up in her tangled grip.

who the hell are you?

Me? No one but the one who's lost in your wake.

Suddenly there were Too.Many.Rules.

Unspoken ones. Ones born of habit. Of familiarity with someone else.

She once theorized that she'd started breaking tangible rules for Liv so she could stop worrying about disappointing her in other ways.

For not being her.


plead her out, casey.

Olivia doesn't realize her voice has broken, but I hear it.

she picked up the jagged edge of the bottle

she came at me, screaming

"i'll never let anyone else have you!"

so i kicked her, hard

and i kicked her again

she went flying across the room, into the wall

she slid down the wall

The litany of horror shatters me as if I were the vodka bottle. Shards of pain. A thousand thousand cries in the darkness.

It is enough for me to want to leave the safety of the shore but I can't.

I've already broken all of Olivia's rules. I'm still not her.


A shadow crosses Casey's doorframe and she looks up from her latest closing argument. This case is dark and mean and plagued with rottenness that makes the young attorney slightly green in the aftermath. It hasn't been an easy one to prosecute despite the best efforts of her detectives and there is enough gray area that her only hope for conviction is her ability to convince twelve people that there is no gray area.

Liv stands there...leans casually against the doorjamb. Her eyes dip toward the floor.

"have dinner with me, counselor."

Casey sighs with exhaustion. She's played this game before. She runs her hand through the fringes of her unkempt hair that has been in need of cutting and coloring for about a month. She decides she can't play it again. Not tonight.

"I don't have time for Chinese, Detective."

The smile that twitches the corner of Olivia's mouth is almost sad.

"out, casey. i mean, let's go out. have dinner. dance." She closes her eyes in anticipation and fear.

Silence swirls around Casey like a sudden summer storm. She rises, half in dream, and comes around the edge of her desk.

The steps she is about to take are the ones that lead away from that shore she's been clinging to and it is at once terrifying and liberating.

She wants this more than she wants to breathe.

Two steps and she can feel the heat of Olivia's body rush to meet her, dancing against her skin in a lover's caress.

"come out on a date with me, counselor." Her voice is so, so beautifully soft.

"Liv, I--"

don't deny me, casey, please i need someone to hold onto in the darkness and you are so bright.

you'll chase away the demons that i can't and i'll teach you the paths across the abyss when you think there aren't any.

come with me, run with me, stay with me, lay with me.

be with me, be with me, be with me and Olivia's soul opens as her name is whispered.

"olivia." there is but a heartbeat between their mouths.

"casey. Casey. Come with me. Let's break the rules today."

casey would have smiled if her mouth wasn't already otherwise occupied.

oh no, she thinks, laughing with dismay and relief. i've been breaking all the wrong rules.





Disclaimer: Not Mine. Dick Wolf’s. I’m just playing.

More C/O-ness ahead.


Risk. it's what she's all about.

taking chances, ducking into Harm's way in the name of public good.

she is the upRight, upTight one. wound for sound and raised with a greed for speed... by a mother whose fists were the first of many bullets she's learned to dodge.

an armor of righteousness surrounds her when she walks. she can talk-talk-talk the good words, the hard words that make bad guys tremble or the soft syllables that allow a victim's fears to tumble.

it's all about the Risk.

with her mouth pressing gently against Casey's, she Risks a touch, a glance of fingers through dual-chromatic hair. rewarded by a softly indrawn breath, a slight moan of encouragement, she risks again.

finding the curve of the ada's pale throat and following it, marking a trail of wet kisses to the tall redhead's ear, she stops and takes one last chance, the biggest risk of all.

in a murmured whisper, spoken between heated caresses and soft nips, she says, "i want to go home with you, Counselor."



by DiNovia

Same disclaimers apply.

C/O is my oxygen. Hear me breathe.



She's seen her fair share of them.

The criminal ones who Take things that cannot be replaced. Innocence. Safety. Self-respect. Even life itself.

The victims who Take what is offered no matter how shoddy or how inept. Who thirst for care. For understanding. For justice.

The otherwise good people who are caught in some sort of addiction, Taking what isn't theirs to Take. Money. Time. Things. Advantage.

The people who can't help Taking because they are in so much need from the get go. The disabled, both physically and mentally. The impoverished. The abandoned. The forgotten.

All her life, Casey Novak has strove not to be a Taker.

She has Given and Given--of herself, her time, her money, her talents--until it has hurt because she never wants to Take unduly.

But this, she thinks with Olivia's soft lips moving against her own, this I'll Take.

It is the only reward she has ever asked for in her life. Given freely with an open heart. Given to her. Given by a woman whose entire life has been spent amongst the Takers; tending them, suffering them, soothing them, and stopping them.

The heat of Olivia's mouth dissipates for a second then reappears at the hollow of Casey's throat. Kisses wind upward like a vibrant ivy vine lacing around her and stretching for the sky.

Lips at her ear. A soft exhalation.

"i want to go home with you, Counselor."

Answering with words would be to destroy the Giving.

The light switch is flipped. The door to the office locks easily.

Her hand fits into Olivia's so sweetly, so perfectly, that she is momentarily undone. She pulls their interwoven hands upward and brushes kisses over the backs of Olivia's fingers. Over knuckles and tender skin.

In the dim hallway outside her office, she re-discovers the need to Give.

I will Give whatever she asks of me. I will Give whatever she doesn't ask for but that she needs. I will Give all I have to Give.

Their hands stay entwined the entire way to Casey's home.

The door to her apartment unlocks easily. The light switch is flipped.

Casey leads and Liv follows.

Mouths, hungry for what each of them Gives, crash together. Fingers tug and pull and reveal skin only to whisper over it in search of the Giving.

Bodies roll, entwine, undulate. Eyes beg, borrow, steal.

Thunder rumbles outside the window, the last storm of the season.

A flash of lightning illuminates a single iota of time, burning the image of Olivia in sacred release into Casey's mind for all time.

Rain falls all night, keeping pace with the lovers who savor every second of every minute between them, chasing touches with kisses and kisses with movement and movement with sound and back again.

Later, when the lovers are sleepily cradled in one another's arms, the rain still falls.

It falls as they fall, surrendering to hearts too long denied the Taking.





Disclaimer: Same as above.

angst alert! : )


she comes awake shrouded in amber. heat from the sun at her side and the one in the sky send her from the bed to patter into the bathroom.

marks on her throat claim ownership of a heart long empty, a soul long dry.

trembling, shivering as she grips the sink hard, knuckles whiter than porcelain.

Olivia Benson does not fall in love overnight.

chocolate eyes cut sideways to peer, fearful, into a bedroom glossed in dust motes and shadows.

outlined in gold are the shapes and subtle hues of Casey Novak as she sleeps, content, sated.



bile rises hot and thick in Liv's throat. it is fear knocking, ringing the bells that have kept the svu detective from ever breeching the most tenuous of barriers - that of colleague and companion.



she swallows. It is bitter. and yet.

Casey turns in her sleep, reaches out and touches the cold place where Liv had been and frowns.

green eyes open and blink sleepily.

olivia hurriedly pushes the bathroom door closed. she's not ready. not yet. courage is found only in the heat of the moment and now, now she is cold.




by DiNovia

Same disclaimer, different day.

tiny angstberg ahead


The bite of cooling air against skin once warmed by the presence of another nudges Casey Novak awake just long enough for her to reach for her lover.

Her questing fingers meet rumpled sheets now almost cold from lack of contact, but not the long-limbed beauty that had spent the night nestled inside the curves and crests of Casey's desire.


Frowning with confusion, Casey levers herself slowly upward and casts her gaze around her empty bedroom.

Where has all the color gone?

There is no clarity in what she sees and it takes her a few moments to realize she is looking at her world through tear-filled eyes.

Oh, God. She cradles her head in her hands and balances the weight of both upon her knees. What have I done?

She curses herself with words as sharp as knives. As cold as ice.

The slow, golden honey of their night together has turned bitter in her belly. She feels bereft. Afraid. Guilty.

A thief waking to the solid consequence of the theft.

She thinks she should have known better. Been stronger. Not given in to her own heart when she knew that Olivia would melt away in the sunlight.


She's been in love with Olivia for so long that she knows her heart will never turn away from the broken woman. But now...

Now she knows.

She knows the sounds that Olivia makes when close to release.

She knows the exact length and breadth of her back when it arches.

She knows the depth of her eyes in the moonlight.

She knows the tart, earthy taste of her arousal and its hot slickness against her skin.

She knows what it is like to press kisses, like prayers, into caramel-colored thighs as they lay open beneath her mouth. An invitation she could not refuse.

The sound of water running in her bathroom sink sends a combination of Hope and Fear skittering down her spine.

She turns her pale features toward the wooden door, listening to the whine of water and air screaming through aging plumbing. It is the darkest Siren's song.

Standing, she gives careful thought to what she should do.

Fight or flight, Novak. Choose wisely.

The voice inside her head is not her own. It belongs to her.

What is she worth to you?

That question is easy to answer. She is worth Everything.

Casey walks to the closed bathroom door, her body still bare and marked by Olivia's passion.

She will not stop at the Taking of one risk alone.

She will fight to quell this coldness that threatens to break them both.

She wants to be warm inside her warmth again.

She lays her palm against the door.

"Olivia, I'm so cold without you," she says when she hears the running water stop.

"Please don't shut me out."





Disclaimer: Yada yada yada Dick Wolf yada yada yada.


she stands at the edge of a dream and the cusp of a nightmare. behind her lies the empty past; before her the broken future. crossing the gap is a big step.

“Please don’t shut me out.”

God. that voice. full of every promise she has forgotten to keep. edged with the fear that eats at her from toes to nose.

olivia looks in the mirror and sees a ghost. shadowed eyes, scattered hair and marks - points of hope that shine like christmas lights on the tree - they call out for acknowledgement.

will she run? where is her strength now? her risk. her Courage.

heart pounding like a rock 'n roll drum, olivia runs wet hands through her hair and dries her face.

this is no bullet to dodge.

this is no innocent victim to console.

this is no scum sucking scuzzball in dire need of a facial rearranging.

this is Casey Novak, whose mouth has left indelible scars of love on her body.

for her - for Her, the Risk is always worth it.

olivia turns to the door and reaches for the handle. almost, she can feel Her - needs to see her.

the door opens.



Of Faith


Another day, another disclaimer.

This is still C/O-pasetic.


It is a long, silent, frightening moment for Casey as she waits for Olivia Benson's verdict.

All she has now is Faith because there is nowhere for her to hide and all of her barriers are down.

She was not this fearful when she laid her career on the sacrificial altar of Judge Taft's power and corruption.

She was not this terrified when she suffered the persecution of Milan Zergin's fists.

She did not tremble as much the first, the fourth, the four-hundredth time she looked into Olivia's eyes.

The cheap brass knob rattles with the weight of Olivia's hand and the dark gateway creaks open slowly.

Her long, tanned arms are wrapped around herself and she shivers, lost and alone. She has used up the last of her Courage in the uncomplicated act of opening a simple door.

"i--i'm..." Her voice breaks against her fear like raindrops shattering on a tin roof. Her eyes are haunted by hope. "casey... cold..."

what was that bible story i heard when i was little? the Samaritan...the Samaritan...

casey, i am stripped bare before you and my wounds weep openly; i have fallen amongst thieves and they have taken everything i can call my own...

my own mother was with them and priests and saviours have abandoned me to the dust...

i am alone and frightened and half dead inside.

what could you want with me?

Casey opens her arms without a word and Liv, choking back a strangled sob, falls into them.

The young woman leads Olivia back to the bed and lays her down, whispering soothing words against her temples, bathing her body with the russet rivulets of her long hair, kissing her sweetly, softly, silently.

I will bind up your wounds and pour upon them the oil of my devotion and the wine of my love. You shall not want for care as long as I have breath in my body and the power to act in your defence within my bones. Rest here with me, mine own heart, and you shall know the best of what is offered to you though I be base-born and not of your tribe. As Ruth spake unto Naomi, so I say unto you: whither thou goest, I will go.

Turned-copper eyes, bright like the two denarii given in payment for the rescued man's care in the bible story, scatter promises as yet unspoken over Olivia's body.

oh God. oh God.

Realization hits Olivia like a thunderbolt from the empty blue sky.

it isn't that she wants something from me, something of me. it isn't that she wants anything from me.

it's that she loves me.

Casey Novak loves me.





disclaimer: here we go again... :)


fear. like a bolt from the Heavens it strikes deep, ripping asunder fragile strings of Courage and olivia stiffens.

then, like gentle water poured over the weeping brow of the newborn baptised, kisses fall in rain waves from Casey's lips to her face, her throat, her shoulders, and her lips are blessed, owned, kept and reminded.

Reminded that there is More in this than just Fear, or Courage or even one of two and two of one.

There is Hope.

Hope that love will blossom and grow and feed upon the hearts and souls of the two so caught in the golden moment and the surly sundays and the manic mondays and the terrible tuesdays and the weary wednesdays and on through the thoughtless thursdays and the freaky fridays and even through the serious saturdays when they go home and fall into each others arms and love...

Love like tomorrow is nothing.

And suddenly, Olivia is kissing Casey. She is taking her into arms made strong by Hope and laying her in the sun and glorying in a body and a soul built to hold the empty darkness that flows from her to Her.

and she is washed.

Clean and burned free and so help her God, she is filled.

Hope is a marvelous thing.

Olivia opens chocolate eyes to look down into the face of her love and smiles. Tremulous, fearful tears blink away as she reaches up and strokes Casey's face.

"Casey - oh Casey, you give me hope - and all I have to return is my love." She tenders kisses over lips bruised and swollen. In softest whispers, she prays, "Please let that be enough."




And Joy

by DiNovia

If you don't know who owns them by now...

Or, for that matter, that C/O is my blood...


"Please let that be enough."

Enough? thinks Casey, wonderingly. Tears well in her sage viridian eyes and spill backwards out of them, tumbling, tangling in her sunrise hair like dew in the morning's first unblemished ray of light. How can it not be enough when I was content to live on wishes alone?

Olivia barters for the deal with kisses and caresses even as Casey realizes that she's been bought and sold a thousand times over with just the word love tendered from those berrywine lips.

"It's more than enough, Olivia Benson," she whispers between hungry nips and searching sweetness. "It's Everything."

Then there's only breath and touch between them and though there is no music playing beyond the song they are composing together, body to body. Wound in each other's gaze, Casey could swear she hears the haunting sound of a cello somewhere in the distance.

across what instrument have we been spanned?
and what violinist holds us in his hand?
o sweetest song.

she and She.

Casey knows there are no words to explain this amazement. That they would be as dead as bones. As dry as sand.

What she feels is held in the tender span of Her palms. In the caramel sweetness of Her eyes.
And there are just no words for it.

What she feels is cradled within the sound of her name said in Her voice. In the breath She steals when they kiss.
And there are just no words for it.

Casey twirls with Olivia in her arms and they are drenched in the drape of bedclothes and joy so thick they could, if they wanted to, spoon it into bowls and feed it to the wide world.

In the end, she conveys the contents of her heart in the only language left to her:

in the sighs and cries and glistening thighs of such love in the making, the Taking, the waking of souls...

in the want yous, the touch mes, the need tos, the silent pleas...

in curves of breasts, in kiss-swollen lips, in awe-filled eyes and rock n' roll hips...

in the honeyed morning light, the can't be wrong 'cuz it's so right, the lover, can we reach that height, the never gonna let you outta my sight...

Until finally, spent to the point of emotional destitution, they collapse together, breathless and undone.

The Words come to Casey, then.

They are simple.


Unadorned and unabashed.

"I love you, Olivia."

She shelters in her brave detective's arms and they are entwined and inseparable, filling each other's hollows. She feels Liv's mouth curve into a smile against her temple and answers it with one of her own.

It is enough, after all.

After all, it is Everything.





disclaimer: follow the bouncing ball. Not mine. Dick Wolf’s territory. (Probably others, too.)


There are no more Somedays for Olivia Benson. Laid bare by the breath of beauty, she walks not in a dream, but wrapped carefully in armor of happiness.

Everyone notices and no one complains. At work, she is all she ever was but with an edge of fierceness that seems almost feral. She is protective of what she loves and yet, she allows for the fallacy of life.

Heads will butt.

Words, both hurtful and wrong will be spat in the heat of the moment but for now, they lie locked away, banished to the realm of maybe.

There is coffee steaming on her desk. DD5’s waiting to be filed. There is also a child crying in the hall, and it is to him that Olivia goes. Kneeling before the toddler she opens her arms to let his grief wash over her.

There is a room not too far away. It is there that the child’s mother sits, staring down the barrel of a return to prison. Across from her is Casey Novak and in her hands lies the fate of mother and child.

Casey looks up as the door opens. Olivia has come bearing the now calmed child.

There are no more somedays for Casey Novak. Seeing her lover bearing the child opens something inside of her she knows… knows with the knowing that is solid and real that it is forever.

When their eyes meet, that knowledge is shared.

Olivia hands the child to his mother. Smiles and says, “He needs you.”

The mother breaks down. Spills everything. Casey writes furiously. Stands, places a hand on Liv’s shoulder. Just a brief touch. Softly whispers, “That’s it. Pick him up.”

Olivia straightens. Gives Casey one of her brightest smiles. “My pleasure, Counselor.”

See, it’s not the job, or the Job… it’s the knowing. The working and the sharing. They have a language, Olivia and Casey.

There are no more somedays – only today, and the words that no longer need to be spoken, only felt.


Find this and more C/O goodies at my co-author/editor's site:




My State of Mind: bouncySqueeee!
momma2kally on September 20th, 2005 04:26 am (UTC)
So. Totally. Worth the wait!!

I LOVE fics written in this verbose. I wish I could do it, but i can't, so i squee with delight when others do.


[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<whattodowhattodo [...] bitter.>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

So. Totally. Worth the wait!!

I LOVE fics written in this verbose. I wish I could do it, but i can't, so i squee with delight when others do.




she swallows. It is bitter. and yet.>

Is my favorite chunk in the whole story because it encompasses everything so brilliantly.

Loved it!!!!
shayshaych_03 on September 20th, 2005 04:49 am (UTC)
glad you liked it. i had a lot of fun writing it with erin... :)
seftiri: blue angel DNseftiri on September 20th, 2005 05:35 am (UTC)
I'm so glad you loved it!

Shay is brilliant, isn't she? :D
avalon: runxxmoonravenxx on September 20th, 2005 12:02 pm (UTC)
oh. my. god.

this was amazing. I love the use of grammer, or rather lack there of ^_^ And the story line itself is enticing, well written, and keeps you hanging off of every word. Surprising very easy to follow. Ugh I can't say enough. you guys make my heart squee!
shayshaych_03 on September 20th, 2005 12:12 pm (UTC)
hey thanks! so glad that this is being enjoyed :) i felt pretty Squee writing it :)
seftiri: Squee!seftiri on September 20th, 2005 12:12 pm (UTC)
And you make our hearts squee! So glad you liked it! It was quite a departure for us but I think it turned out extremely well. If I do say so myself. God, do I sound conceited or what? LOL

Not my intention.

Anyway, thanks dear for your lovely feedback. I'm glad everyone is enjoying the style. :)
Danielle: Casey/Olivia - Subtext?dani_ellie on September 21st, 2005 12:00 am (UTC)
That was incredible. I adore the style, the emotions, the awwww.

seftiri: blue angel DNseftiri on September 21st, 2005 12:03 am (UTC)

Thank you, dearheart.

Hey, I have a random question for you! What size teeshirts do you wear?

I'm glad you liked the story. :D
Danielle: Diane - Mysterious Waysdani_ellie on September 21st, 2005 12:05 am (UTC)
You're quite welcome. :)

Hey, I have a random question for you! What size teeshirts do you wear?

That is random. o_O Depends...long ones, I wear mediums, but like, Old Navy ones I get large. I am now somewhat frightened. ;)
seftiri: All Smilesseftiri on September 21st, 2005 12:09 am (UTC)
Be afraid. Be very afraid.


Nah. It was just a random question.

Here's another. What was your first grade teacher's name?

Danielle: Mariska and Diane - Hee!dani_ellie on September 21st, 2005 12:14 am (UTC)
*looks around warily*


Mrs. Maxwell. I don't remember her first name, but that could be because it was 18 years ago or it could be because first grade was way before I knew teachers HAD first names. ;)
Tiffany: teh casey so wonderfulpiekid on September 21st, 2005 10:54 am (UTC)
So I sat down to write you an email about what I thought of this, because I had that much to say. But I couldn't get my thoughts to come out right, and rewrote it 3 times.

Now, after a re-read, all that I can come up with is this:

WOAH... This.Is.Love! ♥ I'm speechless. :)
seftiri: Squee!seftiri on September 22nd, 2005 01:59 am (UTC)
Thank you! I am so glad you liked it. Shay and I had such a good time writing it. We have several other co-authored pieces on the horizon and she has some amazing pieces over at her web site too.