[Original: Drabble] "Running & Driving" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: Running & Driving
Prompt: writerverse challenge #21 never judge a book by its cover (write a story, then make a cover)
Word Count: 673
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell catch a burglar.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
I turned up the collar of my uniform jacket against the cold wind as we headed back out to our patrol car. You’d think that being (semi-)undead, I’d be less affected by petty things like weather, but vampires are just as cold in the winter as any ordinary human.
Unlike werewolves, obviously- while I was bundled up with hat, scarf and gloves, Howell had unzipped his jacket and didn’t even look cold.
We’d sorted out the disturbance call at the apartment building fairly quickly, without anyone throwing any punches and/or needing to be arrested, which I counted as a win.
I turned up the heat as soon as we got in the car, huddling down in my seat. “Sir, can you put the word out that there are to be no crimes committed for the rest of the night that would make us have to get out of our nice warm car?”
Howell scowled at me, his ‘you are a police officer, so act like it’ scowl. “No,” he said, shortly, then added, “But we can get coffee.”
The warm drink, and the warm cup, helped a lot, especially with the splash of peppermint flavoring I’d gotten in mine. It tasted like winter nights and snow and Christmas, and I looked over at my partner.
“Got any plans for the holiday, sir?” I asked.
“Work,” said Howell. “Crime doesn’t stop just because it’s Christmas. I work the holiday every year.”
“So the guys with families can take the day off,” I said, and he didn’t deny it. Howell might have seemed scary and gruff, but he was really a big softy.
“I volunteered, too,” I said. “So we’ll be working together. Unless there are zombie Santas. I draw the line at zombie Santas.”
“There are no such things as zombies,” said Howell, with a sort of fond exasperation. “Or Santa.”
“Sir!” I said, feigning surprise. “Are you telling me that there’s no Santa!?”
“Jones…”
I grinned. “Yes, sir.”
Our car radio clicked. “All units,” said the dispatcher. “Robbery in progress. 500 block Germantown. Suspect is a white male, twenty-five to thirty- wearing dark jacket and blue jeans. Does not appear armed.”
“That’s right up here,” I said, as we turned a corner. Sure enough, a shop in the middle of the street was lit, showing the broken glass from the large picture window- and the dark figure that took off running down the street.
I opened my car door. “I’ve got this, sir, call it in,” I said, and took off after the suspect.
He didn’t even slow down when I shouted that I was the police and that he had better stop, but then, I hadn’t really expected him to. He also must have thought that all cops ate too many doughnuts, because he looked increasingly surprised that I managed to keep up with him as we rounded the corner into an alley.
We headed down a short block, then into another alley, and I grinned. I knew that this one came out to a little side street, and that my partner knew that, too. I saw the flash of a street light reflecting on tinted windows and standard-issue chrome.
“Hey!” I yelled, and the suspect half-turned, still running- and ran smack into the broadside of our patrol car.
I had him cuffed before Howell had finished putting it in park, but I let my partner take over to pat the guy down. He came up with a jeweled pin, a huge clear stone surrounded by a dozen smaller ones.
“Diamonds,” said Howell. “From an estate sale scheduled for tomorrow. Do you work at the auction house, or just know somebody?”
The guy didn’t answer.
“There’s another car coming to secure the crime scene,” my partner continued. “We’re taking him in.”
I sunk into the passenger seat, then paused and turned down the heat. I didn’t feel nearly as cold after a chase like that.
“Good running, Jones,” said Howell, easing the car back onto the road.
I grinned. “Good driving, sir.”
THE END
Current Mood:
contemplative
Prompt: writerverse challenge #21 never judge a book by its cover (write a story, then make a cover)
Word Count: 673
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell catch a burglar.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
I turned up the collar of my uniform jacket against the cold wind as we headed back out to our patrol car. You’d think that being (semi-)undead, I’d be less affected by petty things like weather, but vampires are just as cold in the winter as any ordinary human.
Unlike werewolves, obviously- while I was bundled up with hat, scarf and gloves, Howell had unzipped his jacket and didn’t even look cold.
We’d sorted out the disturbance call at the apartment building fairly quickly, without anyone throwing any punches and/or needing to be arrested, which I counted as a win.
I turned up the heat as soon as we got in the car, huddling down in my seat. “Sir, can you put the word out that there are to be no crimes committed for the rest of the night that would make us have to get out of our nice warm car?”
Howell scowled at me, his ‘you are a police officer, so act like it’ scowl. “No,” he said, shortly, then added, “But we can get coffee.”
The warm drink, and the warm cup, helped a lot, especially with the splash of peppermint flavoring I’d gotten in mine. It tasted like winter nights and snow and Christmas, and I looked over at my partner.
“Got any plans for the holiday, sir?” I asked.
“Work,” said Howell. “Crime doesn’t stop just because it’s Christmas. I work the holiday every year.”
“So the guys with families can take the day off,” I said, and he didn’t deny it. Howell might have seemed scary and gruff, but he was really a big softy.
“I volunteered, too,” I said. “So we’ll be working together. Unless there are zombie Santas. I draw the line at zombie Santas.”
“There are no such things as zombies,” said Howell, with a sort of fond exasperation. “Or Santa.”
“Sir!” I said, feigning surprise. “Are you telling me that there’s no Santa!?”
“Jones…”
I grinned. “Yes, sir.”
Our car radio clicked. “All units,” said the dispatcher. “Robbery in progress. 500 block Germantown. Suspect is a white male, twenty-five to thirty- wearing dark jacket and blue jeans. Does not appear armed.”
“That’s right up here,” I said, as we turned a corner. Sure enough, a shop in the middle of the street was lit, showing the broken glass from the large picture window- and the dark figure that took off running down the street.
I opened my car door. “I’ve got this, sir, call it in,” I said, and took off after the suspect.
He didn’t even slow down when I shouted that I was the police and that he had better stop, but then, I hadn’t really expected him to. He also must have thought that all cops ate too many doughnuts, because he looked increasingly surprised that I managed to keep up with him as we rounded the corner into an alley.
We headed down a short block, then into another alley, and I grinned. I knew that this one came out to a little side street, and that my partner knew that, too. I saw the flash of a street light reflecting on tinted windows and standard-issue chrome.
“Hey!” I yelled, and the suspect half-turned, still running- and ran smack into the broadside of our patrol car.
I had him cuffed before Howell had finished putting it in park, but I let my partner take over to pat the guy down. He came up with a jeweled pin, a huge clear stone surrounded by a dozen smaller ones.
“Diamonds,” said Howell. “From an estate sale scheduled for tomorrow. Do you work at the auction house, or just know somebody?”
The guy didn’t answer.
“There’s another car coming to secure the crime scene,” my partner continued. “We’re taking him in.”
I sunk into the passenger seat, then paused and turned down the heat. I didn’t feel nearly as cold after a chase like that.
“Good running, Jones,” said Howell, easing the car back onto the road.
I grinned. “Good driving, sir.”
THE END
Current Mood:
contemplative