[Original: Drabble] "Those Who Serve" [Jones & Howell, G]
Title: Those Who Serve
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 23, challenge 01, prompt 17 after the war
Word Count: 536
Rating: G
Original: part of my Jones & Howell verse
Summary: “Did you ever enlist?”
Those Who Serve
Officer Alvarez, from day shift, had been called up by the National Guard, and her send-off party was still going on when Howell and I began our shift. We weren’t exactly friends, but she was a good cop, and I stuck my head into the break room to wish her luck before we headed out.
I accepted the hug and the slice of cake she offered (Howell refused both, but in that charming formal way he had that modern guys seem never to have learned) and she promised she’d text us all on the day she actually left Philadelphia.
Still eating my cake, I got into the passenger side of our patrol car and looked across at my partner, as he pulled out of the parking garage.
“So, sir,” I asked, “did you ever enlist? It would have been for the Union Army, right?”
A red light gave him the opportunity to properly scowl at me. “My mother was a child during the Civil War, rookie,” he said. “And you should know that supernatural beings are not permitted to serve in the Armed Forces.”
“What?” I said. “Why? Nobody ever told me that.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Howell, dryly.
Having a werewolf as a mentor was great for a young cop, but not so great for a young vampire. The Vampire Council was supposed to see to your training in the semi-undead ways, usually conducted by the vampire who had Bitten you, but since my Sire was a rogue and most of the time the Council couldn’t be bothered with me, that left Howell to fill in any gaps in my supernatural education when they came along.
“As for why,” my partner continued, “It’s a simple matter of logistics.”
For a moment, I didn’t understand. Then, “Oh! Because werewolves would need to be locked up on the full moon, and vampires would need fresh blood on the regular, and both of those things might be hard to come by in the middle of a war.”
“Correct, rookie. There’s been talk since ages past of an all-werewolf regiment, but any sane person knows that’s foolishness.”
“Didn’t you get drafted, though?” I asked. “That was a thing.”
“What do they teach you in history class?” Howell grumbled. “I was drafted for the Great War, but didn’t serve. I was medically exempt.”
“So then, you didn’t get drafted again? Because they had that on record?”
“Even simpler. By World War Two, I was just too old, let alone to be drafted for Korea or Vietnam. It was a quieter way of keeping supernaturals from being enlisted - no human could get drafted at ninety-five, either.”
“Huh,” I said. “So what did you do during the war, sir? Any of them.”
“The same thing I’m doing now, Jones. I was already a cop when the Great War broke out, and with most of the other men gone to the front, our patrols were needed more than ever.”
“Huh,” I said again.
Howell snorted. “No snarky comeback?”
“I learn something new from you every day, sir.”
He made a different noise, that was possibly approval, and turned the patrol car down a side street.
“There may be hope for you yet, rookie.”
THE END
Current Mood:
tired
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 23, challenge 01, prompt 17 after the war
Word Count: 536
Rating: G
Original: part of my Jones & Howell verse
Summary: “Did you ever enlist?”
Those Who Serve
Officer Alvarez, from day shift, had been called up by the National Guard, and her send-off party was still going on when Howell and I began our shift. We weren’t exactly friends, but she was a good cop, and I stuck my head into the break room to wish her luck before we headed out.
I accepted the hug and the slice of cake she offered (Howell refused both, but in that charming formal way he had that modern guys seem never to have learned) and she promised she’d text us all on the day she actually left Philadelphia.
Still eating my cake, I got into the passenger side of our patrol car and looked across at my partner, as he pulled out of the parking garage.
“So, sir,” I asked, “did you ever enlist? It would have been for the Union Army, right?”
A red light gave him the opportunity to properly scowl at me. “My mother was a child during the Civil War, rookie,” he said. “And you should know that supernatural beings are not permitted to serve in the Armed Forces.”
“What?” I said. “Why? Nobody ever told me that.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Howell, dryly.
Having a werewolf as a mentor was great for a young cop, but not so great for a young vampire. The Vampire Council was supposed to see to your training in the semi-undead ways, usually conducted by the vampire who had Bitten you, but since my Sire was a rogue and most of the time the Council couldn’t be bothered with me, that left Howell to fill in any gaps in my supernatural education when they came along.
“As for why,” my partner continued, “It’s a simple matter of logistics.”
For a moment, I didn’t understand. Then, “Oh! Because werewolves would need to be locked up on the full moon, and vampires would need fresh blood on the regular, and both of those things might be hard to come by in the middle of a war.”
“Correct, rookie. There’s been talk since ages past of an all-werewolf regiment, but any sane person knows that’s foolishness.”
“Didn’t you get drafted, though?” I asked. “That was a thing.”
“What do they teach you in history class?” Howell grumbled. “I was drafted for the Great War, but didn’t serve. I was medically exempt.”
“So then, you didn’t get drafted again? Because they had that on record?”
“Even simpler. By World War Two, I was just too old, let alone to be drafted for Korea or Vietnam. It was a quieter way of keeping supernaturals from being enlisted - no human could get drafted at ninety-five, either.”
“Huh,” I said. “So what did you do during the war, sir? Any of them.”
“The same thing I’m doing now, Jones. I was already a cop when the Great War broke out, and with most of the other men gone to the front, our patrols were needed more than ever.”
“Huh,” I said again.
Howell snorted. “No snarky comeback?”
“I learn something new from you every day, sir.”
He made a different noise, that was possibly approval, and turned the patrol car down a side street.
“There may be hope for you yet, rookie.”
THE END
Current Mood:
tired