I couldn’t hear you over the sound of Cosima’s majestic dreads whooshing me off to lesbianland
— Me, skipping down Main Street of Storybrooke,when SQ is endgame, aka always
Careful, honey, it’s loaded,” he said, reentering the bedroom.
Her back rested against the headboard. “This for your wife?”
“No. Too chancy. I’m hiring a professional.”
“How about me?”
He smirked. “Cute. But who’d be dumb enough to hire a lady hit man?”
She wet her lips, sighting along the barrel.
— "Bedtime Story" by Jeffrey Whitmore (via 01012012)