Tarnished Heroes Chapter Seven I'd be your lover, if you were there Photograph Def Leppard Well past mid-night, alone in his darkroom, Tom Dyer processed several of the photographs he’d taken of Calla earlier in the night. He still fervently hoped that Calla would want to see the pictures and that she would at least appreciate them if not actually like them. Somewhere between ten and thirteen 8x10 hung on the clothesline drying and while they did he turned his attention to that half-roll of photographs of her and Antwone and began developing them. “What the fuck is that?” He asked aloud as he held the processed roll to the red light. “Aw, shit, man, something must have been wrong with the film. What the fuck?” Taking the roll of newly developed film in his hand he held them up to 8x10’s drying on the line. In those prints she was picture perfect. In the negatives in his hand, she was anything but. “This can’t be right.” Tom shook his partly balding head and considered chucking the roll but then decided he’d finish processing them into 8x10 just to get a decent look at them. An hour later with the lights on and the photographs fully processed Tom sat with an ancient cup of coffee comparing the pictures. At first he stared at the empty boxes of film and made sure they all had the same “develop by” date….they did. So what was up with these photographs? Solo she looked ravishing, good enough to eat! There wasn’t a single mark on her. Coupled with Antwone there were shadows on her face that looked like bruises and the same around her neck. What could only be described as faded lash marks marred that lovely back of hers? She looked like someone had tied her to the whippin’ post for a good long time. That’s the problem you didn’t think! Yeah, maybe not, but he certainly didn’t think this would happen and tried and tried and tried to come up with some logical explanation. The lights were off. The film was bad. But neither of those was true. “What the fuck is this?” He asked no one again. Fearing the worst that his chances in the show had just gone from 80% to 30% he let out a heavy sigh. In a rather dark and almost malicious way, he rather liked the image of Calla at Antowne’s feet with her back to the camera and her hair hanging over one shoulder. She looked as though she’d been beaten within an inch of her life at some point and the way her hands were clutching his thighs and her head tilted up as if to say ‘don’t hurt me anymore.’ Dark and bleak as it was, in the Art Photography category, that was a winner, baby. Sure enough it was. With excitement in his step, Tom took it back to the dark room and blew up the negative to 16x20. If she ever got the urge to see these he’d tell her the shots of the two of them didn’t come out well and he hadn’t used them. Tom snorted a laugh. Wasn’t that pretty much the same lie she said she was going to tell Daniel? Surely if she saw the image somewhere, she’d know it was her. “What the fuck happened to you, Calla Jackson?” Tom asked as the image was transposed to the glossy paper by the enlarger and then he dunked into the wash. As the image developed and then hung up to dry, he picked two more photographs. Tom was very enamored with the first photograph of the evening, the one with her on her back and her hair splayed out around her. He developed that one into 16x20 as well and intended to enter it in the Overall Black & White category. One more to choose for the Female Form entry, looking over the proofs carefully he decided on a photograph which showed more of her face than she’d like but, well, that was a winner too. Besides her hair cascading down around her so that her face was fairly hidden behind it. She was sitting there on the bed sideways to the camera and he’d given her a fake daisy to hold. Calla was looking down at it while pretending to pluck the pedals off in a game of “He Love Me, He Loves Me Not”. Yeah, another winner. By the time 2am rolled around Tom Dyer was very happy and pleased with himself and his photographs. Tomorrow he’d come back here mat them and ship them off with a few days to spare before the deadline. Driving home he began working on his acceptance speech. End of Chapter Seven of
A Daniel Jackson
Stargate SG-1
Adult FanFiction Series
By
Moon Mistress
a/k/a Lisa Beth Darling
Put your hurt on me, if you dare
Such a woman, you got style
You make every man feel like a child
You got some kinda hold on me
You're all wrapped up in mystery
So wild so free so far from me
You're all I want, my fantasy
Tarnished Heroes
An Adult Stargate FanFiction Novel
By
Moon Mistress
Continue to
Chapter Eight