Jane Seville Quotes

You got a better word for a guy who's swept my chimney five times in one night?
-Dr. Jack Francisco

Shush. I don't care if you're damaged, or if you're not strong inside. Guess what? Nobody is. Whatever you have left is enough.

D drew back and took Jack's face in his hands. "I'll find you. You hear me?" Jack nodded, a lump rising in his throat. "I'll find you.

Stud," D repeated, growly and low. Jack snorted. "You got a better word for a guy who's swept my chimney five times in one night?

D, I have known a lot of men in my time,
queer and straight, and I think I can state with some
confidence that you are as gay as a spring parade." ~ Jack

My grandma always had chocolate-covered cherries," D said, his tone curled at the edges, like he'd surprised himself with the memory. Jack slid up a little so he could watch D's face. "Usedta love them things. The way they'd kinda burst open when ya bit 'em, and that syrupy stuff inside, then the cherry. I'd bite off one side a the shell real careful-like, so none a the syrup spilled, then suck all the gooey out, then fish out the cherry with my tongue, then I'd just have the chocolate shell left and I'd nibble on it 'til it was gone. She'd only let me have one or two so I hadta make 'em last." He glanced at Jack, who was just staring at him, his mouth open. "What?"
"That is the sexiest thing I've ever heard."
D flushed and fidgeted. "Aw, hell."
"Seriously. Ask me how much I want to go get some chocolate-covered cherries right now just so I can watch you eat them.

Jack rolled onto his stomach and clutched a pillow over his head. Sure, no problem. Testify against some drug lords. All in a day's work. Get a new name and get yourself relocated thousands of miles away. No sweat. Assassins coming after you? Check. Conscience-ridden hit men spiriting you away? Check. Hiding out in a remote cabin? Oh, got that one covered. Develop unseemly crush on ruthless hired killer?
Jack sighed. I am one incurable illness away from a Lifetime Movie of the Week.

He stood before the door, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Hi. Uh ... how are ya?
No, no.
Hello, Jack. I'm back.
Shit, that fuckin' rhymes. Sounds like fuckin' Sesame Street.
Hi there. Off with yer clothes.
Nothin' like gettin' right ta the point, huh?

Call me D."
"D?"
"You asked my name, I told ya."
"Yeah, it's just that... well, most of the time in names, D is followed by some more letters. Like -onald, or -avid."
D stared at him for a few seconds, then seemed to relax.
"D's good enough.

"D?"
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Jack felt arousal spiking through him, clouding his mind with the wanting, wanting this man, all of him, black and tarry, rotted with disuse, glorious and fractured and spilling out of the cracks.

Hey, what's that thing where you hold the gun sideways?" he said, grinning.
D snorted. "That's called being a punk-ass punk," he said. "Might look good in rap videos. You see anybody holdin' a gun like that ya know they're cake, 'cause they're more interested in what the gun looks like in their hand than what it can do, and they're probly dumber'n a fuckin' bag a hammers too.

Jack is somewhere in this city, right now.
The thought was like passing by a house where someone was grilling in the back yard. You could smell it, but it wasn't yours, and you couldn't just barge into their home and demand a burger, no matter how your mouth watered.

Kissing Jack wasn't what he'd expected. Not letting himself
do it for this long now seemed kind of stupid ... or a lot
stupid. What had he been afraid of? Too intimate, too
romantic, too ... just too. Sex was okay, even sucking dick
was okay. That was to get off. Kissing, though ... that you did
only because you had something to say that words didn't
quite do it for. That meant feelings and messiness.

It was possible that this was just the latest assault in the ongoing campaign being waged by various nurses and fellow doctors to seduce him via baked goods.

Neither of us is gonna be able to walk tomorrow."
"Who needs ta walk? Dunno 'bout you but I ain't plannin' ta leave this bed."
"What, we just lie here naked all weekend?"
"Somethin' wrong with that?"
"Might scandalize the marshals when they bring in my food."
"Aw, who the fuck cares."
Jack arched one eyebrow at him. "Who are you, and what have you done with D?

I do not either want to, and them candies make me
think a my grandmother, so it's real fuckin' weird that you
turned 'em inta some kinda sex fantasy, okay? 'Cause then I
get all mixed up in my head where I'm in my grandma's livin'
room makin' Play-Doh french fries while you suck my dick and
that's just ten kinds a wrong. Even I ain't that fucked up.

I said, I ain't buyin' no chocolate covered cherries."
"Oh, come on. You know you want to."
D shook his head like Jack was just too much to be believed. "I do not either want to, and them candies makes me think of my grandmother, so it's real fuckin' weird that you turned 'em inta some kinda sex fantasy, okay? 'Cause then I get all mixed up in my head where I'm in my grandma's livin' room makin' Play-Doh french fries while you suck my dick and that's just ten kinds of wrong. Even I ain't that fucked up."
Jack laughed. "Not yet you aren't." He looked at D's face, smiling with him.

Swept yer chimney!" D howled. "Aw shit, that is fuckin' rich!

Close enough to fuck was close enough to shank him with a dagger hidden in the crease of some chick's jean shorts.

D stared out the window, shoving down the feeling that it might be real nice to sit here and tell Jack Francisco everything about himself, confess things he'd never told nobody, just to feel like somebody cared, and to keep those big blue eyes fixed on him for as long as he could.

Get over here. We're having intimate bed conversation and I won't do it with a foot of mattress between us.

Maybe I could be a ninja assassin too, Jack thought.

And how do you really feel?
Like I'll never recover. Like I'll never draw another breath without half of it being a wish for him.

Real fuckin' close. Too fuckin' close. Ta think I almos' put a bullet between them eyes, and took that life that now I'd die ta save, and I never woulda known what he was in the world, and who he was or could be, and I woulda never even known what I was missin', nor known how right it could feel just ta lay my fingers alongside his.

Watching him from a distance for ten years doesn't make you an expert, you know!"
"Sleeping with him for two months doesn't make you one, either," she said, cool as a cucumber.
Churchill recoiled with a wide-eyed "oh no she DIDN'T" expression that might have been funny under different circumstances.

He paused at the bedroom door, shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked right out like it was any other morning, and he and Jack would be having breakfast as if they hadn't had sex the night before.
"Morning," he said, casting a quick glance over his shoulder.
"Mmm," D grunted.
"You done in the bathroom?"
D blinked. No, I jus' took a little breather in the middle a my mornin' beauty ritual ta come out here 'n' chat with ya. A course I'm done.

Jus hold me a little longer, Jack. Tell me again that ya wanna be with me, fer real, cross yer heart 'n' let me know you ain't foolin', cause I dunno how or when it happen but somehow I come ta need ya like air, like blood. Touch me again like ya do with them gentle hands make me feel like somethin' precious. Say it again that ya love me, cause hearin' that was like openin' up some big bottomless well that ran dry years back and it cain't never be full enough now, I cain't never hear it enough, but once more, one more time and maybe I'll believe it a little more, and then a little more the next time, till someday I believe it fer true enough ta be able to say it back ta you like y'oughta hear it said cause God knows I love you more'n my own life, more'n anythin' in this world, but it cain't get outta me yet cause I still ain't the man I need ta be, the man who's gonna stand before you and declare.

No, Jack, we cain't sneak by. These aren't movie bad guys who don't got no peripheral vision and we can just slip past while they're lookin' the other way. You want yer life, you gotta fuckin' take it.

Jack laughed, a quick, surprised chuckle. God, all I wanted these past months was the chance for you to get on my nerves.

Feelings come in packs, D. Let one loose and they all want to run together.

He turned the Corner onto Third Street and went up the block to Cup O'Joe. "Hey, Jack," said Marc, the barista, as he approached the Counter. "Latte?"
"Mmm ... nah. Gimme a large Mocha with a shot of hazelnut, skim, no Whip."
"Okay." He rung up the sale. "By yourself tonight?"
"My better half is home asleep. Just got back from a two-week trip."
"Well, tell him I've got some 'regular goddamn coffee' here with his Name on it," Marc said, winking.

This ain't Halloween." he said.
"What's that mean?"
"Means I ain't sharin' my candy.

X? Seriously? What, do you meet them in darkened parking garages? Do you have a Bat-Signal or something?