RoL: Man Bites Dog
Fandom: Rivers of London
Pairing: gen with a bit of Peter objectifying Lesley
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,091
Spoilers: Rivers of London and Moon Over Soho
Warnings: crack
Author's Note: This takes place between Moon Over Soho and Whispers Under Ground. For hc_bingo for my “unwanted transformation” square. No Bitpick. Beta by saekokato.
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Ben Aaronovitch.
Summary: Sometimes Peter’s life is a little backwards. Toby deserves a sausage for being able to manage Peter’s life properly.
Man Bites Dog
I had just rounded the corner after the suspect. I hate it when they run, especially downtown. Nothing like rounding blind corners into filthy alleys and racing through puddles of piss. I was a little out of breath, but Lesley was somewhere nearby ready to save my arse anyway. Undoubtedly, she had taken the clean way around. The suspect was gone, and there was a giant dog standing in the narrow alleyway, all dripping jowls and very sharp, very noticeable teeth. The suspect was nowhere in sight, but I was looking at those teeth. There was also a lot of growling.
Except the growling was coming from in front of me and behind me.
I didn’t want to take my eyes off the gigantic monstrosity in front of me to turn around to probably find an equally giant monstrosity behind me.
I had a forma on my lips, ready to push both dogs, but there was a blur running between my legs, and Toby - Toby - attacked the massive dog. The dog fight was intense, but it was over quickly with limited yelps, growls, and whimpers. The massive dog ran away, and Toby limped over to sit at my feet, tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. He seemed smug.
Lesley rounded the corner into the other side of the alley. Even through her mask, I could feel her exasperation.
“Where’s the suspect?” she demanded. “Why’s Toby here?”
I shrugged. “There was a dog.”
I could feel her glaring at me. “Peter, I swear.” She didn’t bother wasting her breath on the rest of that sentence. “The suspect is probably long gone. I’m going to bring Toby back to the Folly. Can’t trust you with a suspect. I’m not going to trust you with a dog.”
- -
Molly fixed Toby up right and fed him a few sausages. I was somehow dubbed responsible for the entire dog fight and therefore in charge of Toby’s walks, which was nothing new, really. The only thing new was that Molly, in her way, had insisted that Toby stay in my room for observation over the night. In case he developed an infection. I could tell Lesley was smirking at me behind her mask.
I tried pointing out that I had no idea what to do if Toby developed an infection, and how would I know if I was asleep.
That earned me a very unpleasant look from Molly.
- -
I awoke to screaming: the unpleasant, painful, my-life-is-ending screaming. I had my baton in hand before my eyes were open. I quickly created a werelight.
There was a small, naked man on my bedroom floor convulsing. He was pale and had shaggy blond hair.
I did the only thing I could think of.
“Molly!” I shouted. I was surprised she wasn’t in my room already.
Instead of Molly, Nightingale barged into my room and pushed me aside. He held the man’s head steady, which wasn’t supposed to be done in the case of seizing victims, but the man calmed quickly and stopped twitching. He still screamed. It was slowing down into a high pitched moaning whine.
“That’s a good boy,” Nightingale said. He then scratched the man’s head, mussing the blond hair.
“Uh,” I said. I raised a hand slightly, not sure what to do with it. I put it back down by my side.
“Peter!” Lesley gasped as she arrived in my doorway. She had her mask on but not a bra.
Molly appeared behind her, hovering all creepy-like in the background. There’s not a long hair out of place for the middle of the night.
“Sausages,” Nightingale said.
The man stopped screaming for a moment.
“What?” I said.
“Who’s that?” Lesley asked.
“Sausages?” the man said. His voice was nasally, unpracticed, and gruff. He looked a lot brighter, happier, less like he had been screaming and convulsing on my floor a moment ago.
“Yes,” Nightingale said. His tone was as clipped as always, but it seemed a bit softer. On Nightingale, that never boded well.
“What is going on?!” I ask loudly.
“Toby seems to be afflicted,” Nightingale said.
“Where is Toby?” I asked. The convulsing man must have scared him off. Normally Toby would be on the attack.
“Don’t be stupid,” Lesley said. “That’s Toby.” She pointed to the man that Nightingale had at least stopped scratching behind the ears.
“How?” I ask. I don’t cross my arms, but I’m still annoyed. Then, well, Toby as a human wouldn’t have been the strangest thing that’d happened while living at the Folly. “No,” I said quickly. “I don’t want to know.”
“It appears he was bitten by a were,” Nightingale said. Sarcasm never really went far with Nightingale.
Molly appeared behind Lesley, this time with sausages. Toby-the-human seemed very interested in those sausages.
“That monstrosity he fought with earlier?” I asked. “Could that have done something?”
“So now Toby is a werehuman?” Lesley asked.
“Should we give him clothing?” I asked.
Molly nudged Lesley aside and tossed Toby a sausage. I did note that they were cooked sausages.
Toby caught the sausage in his hand (it did fumble a bit) and shoved it into his mouth. Bits fell onto the carpet, and I knew that I would be the one cleaning those up. After he had devoured the sausage, Toby bent over the carpet and licked up the bits of fallen sausage.
“Ugh,” I said.
“He’s just a dog,” Leslie admonished.
“I will take care of Toby overnight,” Nightingale announced. “For observation.”
“You’ve never seen a were, have you?” I accused.
Nightingale gave me a withering look, but he ushered Toby out of my room. Toby had a bit of difficulty using only two legs, but he made it, staggering like a drunkard.
I could tell Lesley was giving me a look from beneath her mask. “How do you always know how to find trouble, Peter?”
I shrugged. “Raw talent.”
“You’re going to be on sausage duty from now on,” she explained, crossing her arms.
I shrugged again. I did feel dreadful about what had happened to Toby, but he had gone willingly into that dogfight.
“And you can bet there will be loads more studying in your future.”
That, I groaned at. Of course Nightingale would use this as an opportunity for more work.
“And if you make one tasteless joke about a man biting a dog, I will slap you.” With that, she walked away, presumably back to her own bedroom.
I just stared at her bum.
Pairing: gen with a bit of Peter objectifying Lesley
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,091
Spoilers: Rivers of London and Moon Over Soho
Warnings: crack
Author's Note: This takes place between Moon Over Soho and Whispers Under Ground. For hc_bingo for my “unwanted transformation” square. No Bitpick. Beta by saekokato.
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Ben Aaronovitch.
Summary: Sometimes Peter’s life is a little backwards. Toby deserves a sausage for being able to manage Peter’s life properly.
Man Bites Dog
I had just rounded the corner after the suspect. I hate it when they run, especially downtown. Nothing like rounding blind corners into filthy alleys and racing through puddles of piss. I was a little out of breath, but Lesley was somewhere nearby ready to save my arse anyway. Undoubtedly, she had taken the clean way around. The suspect was gone, and there was a giant dog standing in the narrow alleyway, all dripping jowls and very sharp, very noticeable teeth. The suspect was nowhere in sight, but I was looking at those teeth. There was also a lot of growling.
Except the growling was coming from in front of me and behind me.
I didn’t want to take my eyes off the gigantic monstrosity in front of me to turn around to probably find an equally giant monstrosity behind me.
I had a forma on my lips, ready to push both dogs, but there was a blur running between my legs, and Toby - Toby - attacked the massive dog. The dog fight was intense, but it was over quickly with limited yelps, growls, and whimpers. The massive dog ran away, and Toby limped over to sit at my feet, tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. He seemed smug.
Lesley rounded the corner into the other side of the alley. Even through her mask, I could feel her exasperation.
“Where’s the suspect?” she demanded. “Why’s Toby here?”
I shrugged. “There was a dog.”
I could feel her glaring at me. “Peter, I swear.” She didn’t bother wasting her breath on the rest of that sentence. “The suspect is probably long gone. I’m going to bring Toby back to the Folly. Can’t trust you with a suspect. I’m not going to trust you with a dog.”
- -
Molly fixed Toby up right and fed him a few sausages. I was somehow dubbed responsible for the entire dog fight and therefore in charge of Toby’s walks, which was nothing new, really. The only thing new was that Molly, in her way, had insisted that Toby stay in my room for observation over the night. In case he developed an infection. I could tell Lesley was smirking at me behind her mask.
I tried pointing out that I had no idea what to do if Toby developed an infection, and how would I know if I was asleep.
That earned me a very unpleasant look from Molly.
- -
I awoke to screaming: the unpleasant, painful, my-life-is-ending screaming. I had my baton in hand before my eyes were open. I quickly created a werelight.
There was a small, naked man on my bedroom floor convulsing. He was pale and had shaggy blond hair.
I did the only thing I could think of.
“Molly!” I shouted. I was surprised she wasn’t in my room already.
Instead of Molly, Nightingale barged into my room and pushed me aside. He held the man’s head steady, which wasn’t supposed to be done in the case of seizing victims, but the man calmed quickly and stopped twitching. He still screamed. It was slowing down into a high pitched moaning whine.
“That’s a good boy,” Nightingale said. He then scratched the man’s head, mussing the blond hair.
“Uh,” I said. I raised a hand slightly, not sure what to do with it. I put it back down by my side.
“Peter!” Lesley gasped as she arrived in my doorway. She had her mask on but not a bra.
Molly appeared behind her, hovering all creepy-like in the background. There’s not a long hair out of place for the middle of the night.
“Sausages,” Nightingale said.
The man stopped screaming for a moment.
“What?” I said.
“Who’s that?” Lesley asked.
“Sausages?” the man said. His voice was nasally, unpracticed, and gruff. He looked a lot brighter, happier, less like he had been screaming and convulsing on my floor a moment ago.
“Yes,” Nightingale said. His tone was as clipped as always, but it seemed a bit softer. On Nightingale, that never boded well.
“What is going on?!” I ask loudly.
“Toby seems to be afflicted,” Nightingale said.
“Where is Toby?” I asked. The convulsing man must have scared him off. Normally Toby would be on the attack.
“Don’t be stupid,” Lesley said. “That’s Toby.” She pointed to the man that Nightingale had at least stopped scratching behind the ears.
“How?” I ask. I don’t cross my arms, but I’m still annoyed. Then, well, Toby as a human wouldn’t have been the strangest thing that’d happened while living at the Folly. “No,” I said quickly. “I don’t want to know.”
“It appears he was bitten by a were,” Nightingale said. Sarcasm never really went far with Nightingale.
Molly appeared behind Lesley, this time with sausages. Toby-the-human seemed very interested in those sausages.
“That monstrosity he fought with earlier?” I asked. “Could that have done something?”
“So now Toby is a werehuman?” Lesley asked.
“Should we give him clothing?” I asked.
Molly nudged Lesley aside and tossed Toby a sausage. I did note that they were cooked sausages.
Toby caught the sausage in his hand (it did fumble a bit) and shoved it into his mouth. Bits fell onto the carpet, and I knew that I would be the one cleaning those up. After he had devoured the sausage, Toby bent over the carpet and licked up the bits of fallen sausage.
“Ugh,” I said.
“He’s just a dog,” Leslie admonished.
“I will take care of Toby overnight,” Nightingale announced. “For observation.”
“You’ve never seen a were, have you?” I accused.
Nightingale gave me a withering look, but he ushered Toby out of my room. Toby had a bit of difficulty using only two legs, but he made it, staggering like a drunkard.
I could tell Lesley was giving me a look from beneath her mask. “How do you always know how to find trouble, Peter?”
I shrugged. “Raw talent.”
“You’re going to be on sausage duty from now on,” she explained, crossing her arms.
I shrugged again. I did feel dreadful about what had happened to Toby, but he had gone willingly into that dogfight.
“And you can bet there will be loads more studying in your future.”
That, I groaned at. Of course Nightingale would use this as an opportunity for more work.
“And if you make one tasteless joke about a man biting a dog, I will slap you.” With that, she walked away, presumably back to her own bedroom.
I just stared at her bum.