that meme, the one that's the first lines of your last 10 fics

Got this from exbex--she posted twenty first lines but I'm going to do ten to conserve my strength. Three fandoms--Starsky and Hutch, The Professionals and Inspector Lewis.


“’E’s been hit by a car,” Lizzie said, sounding like she was standing right next to him instead of thousands of miles away.

It was one of those rain slicked, foggy nights were the elements seem intent on burrowing under collars, the edges of boots and up under hats, drenching human kind.

Happiness is a Warm Gun by the Beatles was playing on the stereo when Starsky let himself into Venice Place.

“Who was your first, then?” Bodie asked, walking into the building.

He waited.

James Hathaway had never had a type.

Rain brought strong winds, rare thunder and lightning to Bay City.

Starsky walked out of Metro headquarters, tired beyond belief—it had been a rough forty-eight hours and he was ready to hit the hay.

Listening with one ear to the speaker’s long-winded rhetoric, James Hathaway kept an eye out on the crowd.

In the midst of a case, Hathaway doesn’t sleep.