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Was: Laramie Tales: New Working Title: Tales of Greenlea County (ARCHIVE)
BelAir:
as in the underwear Gene was wearing while making breakfast... somewhat disturbing to Colson...
Maybe he could get past this underwear and apron thing and move on. Or maybe dealing with all these queers is gonna kill me before Sunday closing time, he thought pessimistically.
mariez:
What Ellery is wearing when he first meets Colson:
.....And lean, wiry as Colson himself, his figure made sharper by the trim black shirt, jet black leather vest and coal-black denims. When he spoke his voice was as deep as Colson's own.
belbbmfan:
The first word Colson managed to mutter as he entered The Red Stallion.
So this is where the queers go, the thought dropping through his thoughts like an anvil into the bottom of his stomach. He saw one thing: the bar, and headed for it, not daring to look left or right, and slid onto an empty stool that looked isolated enough from the nearest denizen, a shadow in black leather, fortunately turned away from him, the man deep in conversation with someone out of range of his peripheral vision.
"Whiskey," he croaked, his throat sandpaper-dry,
mariez:
where Ellery goes to investigate Adam's death:
“Got a report from New Mexico, I’m gonna fly down an dig into it tomorrow, try ta be home tomorrow night Sunday.”
belbbmfan:
Using a firm grip, Colson maneuvered Pete up out of his stool, now showing little resistance, and handed him the remainder of his shot of whiskey. "Here, drink this, then let's wash you up, all right?"
The dark-eyed youth peered at Colson, taking the shot from his hand and downing it in a practiced gulp, making Colson look a bit more closely. Too young to be taking his whiskey that quick, he thought.
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