9/11 Short Stories

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(NAME) awoke a few hours later, nuzzling against the solid warmth in front of her. She pondered why her pillow was so solid, and mumbled something incoherent as she prised open her eyes.
Oh. That's not her pillow. That's a sleeping Tracy. A very nude sleeping Tracy. A Tracy with messy ginger hair and skinny arms wrapped around (NAME) protectively, as his head rested above hers. Judging by the deep in-and-out of his breathing, John was still asleep. (NAME) squeaked as her mind caught up with her sight, images of their previous activities flashing through her head. John's lips against hers, bare skin against skin, the sigh of each other's names on their lips...
(NAME) squirmed in John's arms in a feeble attempt at escape and succeeding only in waking the astronaut. John grumbled, tightening his arms around (NAME) and pulling her closer. …show more content…

"I'll get up in five Scott, promise."
"Hey Sleepyhead," (NAME) whispered, snuggling closer to John's chest when she realised escape was not happening soon. "Five more minutes sounds good. You sleep okay?" John grunted at (NAME)'s reply, and lifted his head, one blue-green eye cracked open to survey his surroundings. Contented with the knowledge that he was aboard Thunderbird 5, his head dropped back onto the pillow. There's a few more minutes of contented silence as the two doze.
"We should get up though," John eventually sighed. "Brains has probably finished those repairs by

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