John Barrowman (silenced_song) wrote in oregonal_sin, @ 2009-12-08 12:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | [complete], benjamin adams, john barrowman |
Benjamin
Late evening John rapped sharply on Benjamin's door. He was carrying a tea pot, tea, and a plate that he'd covered. There was steam coming from the plate and they smelled, frankly, of scones. There was also a really, really determined look on his face.