FAKE Ficlet: Hell Of A Day
Title: Hell Of A Day
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee, Ryo.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Dee and Ryo have had a rough day at work and need a drink.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 130: Drop at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Dee wasn’t a heavy drinker; maybe when he’d been younger but not anymore. Oh, he still liked a few beers with the guys on a night out, a glass or two of wine over dinner at a good restaurant, even a few tequila shots to celebrate someone’s birthday or a big case successfully closed, but beyond that… Some cops resorted to the hard stuff to get through each day, but not Dee Laytner.
Most of the time anyway. There were occasional exceptions, and today certainly qualified.
St Patrick’s Day was wall-to-wall fun, as long as you weren’t a cop assigned to keep the peace. That was the general idea anyway; leave off investigating open cases and get out on the street, mingle with the crowds during the parade, keeping watch for pickpockets, muggers, and the occasional reveller who’d started celebrating a bit too early.
There were always fights to break up too; get enough Guinness and Irish whiskey into a crowd of good Irishmen and fighting became a sport, everyone having a grand old time punching anyone within range. Personally Dee didn’t see the harm in a friendly brawl, the combatants generally seemed quite enthusiastic, but bystanders often wound up in the thick of things, and there was damage to public and private property, so when fights got out of control or spilled into the streets, it was down to the police to break them up. That could be a bit hazardous; some people reacted badly to having their fun spoiled.
None of that was responsible for the bad day Dee and Ryo had just endured, however. They’d broken up some fights, apprehended three pickpockets, restored two lost children to their parents, and given several tourists directions.
Then, in need of sustenance and something to drink, they’d stepped inside a corner store a couple of blocks from the parade route, where things were a lot quieter, and walked straight into the middle of an armed robbery.
There were two youths in jeans and hoodies, wearing gloves and with scarves covering their lower faces. One was armed with a .38 revolver, the other with a 9mil automatic, which was aimed at the shopkeeper’s head as he emptied the till.
Dee and Ryo’s guns were in their shoulder holsters, hidden by their jackets, their badges in their pockets, and the moment they’d entered the store they’d found themselves at gunpoint. Dee couldn’t believe two pimply youths had gotten the drop on them.
Not that they’d had the advantage for long. Dee dived one way, Ryo the other, drawing their weapons, flashing their badges, identifying themselves and ordering the youths to drop their weapons…
They tried to shoot their way out instead.
In such close quarters, with innocent lives at stake, there was no choice but to finish things quickly; one of the robbers died immediately, the other might survive.
Dee sighed, pouring himself and Ryo a shot of whiskey.
Hell of a day! They both needed a drop of the hard stuff.
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee, Ryo.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Dee and Ryo have had a rough day at work and need a drink.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 130: Drop at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Dee wasn’t a heavy drinker; maybe when he’d been younger but not anymore. Oh, he still liked a few beers with the guys on a night out, a glass or two of wine over dinner at a good restaurant, even a few tequila shots to celebrate someone’s birthday or a big case successfully closed, but beyond that… Some cops resorted to the hard stuff to get through each day, but not Dee Laytner.
Most of the time anyway. There were occasional exceptions, and today certainly qualified.
St Patrick’s Day was wall-to-wall fun, as long as you weren’t a cop assigned to keep the peace. That was the general idea anyway; leave off investigating open cases and get out on the street, mingle with the crowds during the parade, keeping watch for pickpockets, muggers, and the occasional reveller who’d started celebrating a bit too early.
There were always fights to break up too; get enough Guinness and Irish whiskey into a crowd of good Irishmen and fighting became a sport, everyone having a grand old time punching anyone within range. Personally Dee didn’t see the harm in a friendly brawl, the combatants generally seemed quite enthusiastic, but bystanders often wound up in the thick of things, and there was damage to public and private property, so when fights got out of control or spilled into the streets, it was down to the police to break them up. That could be a bit hazardous; some people reacted badly to having their fun spoiled.
None of that was responsible for the bad day Dee and Ryo had just endured, however. They’d broken up some fights, apprehended three pickpockets, restored two lost children to their parents, and given several tourists directions.
Then, in need of sustenance and something to drink, they’d stepped inside a corner store a couple of blocks from the parade route, where things were a lot quieter, and walked straight into the middle of an armed robbery.
There were two youths in jeans and hoodies, wearing gloves and with scarves covering their lower faces. One was armed with a .38 revolver, the other with a 9mil automatic, which was aimed at the shopkeeper’s head as he emptied the till.
Dee and Ryo’s guns were in their shoulder holsters, hidden by their jackets, their badges in their pockets, and the moment they’d entered the store they’d found themselves at gunpoint. Dee couldn’t believe two pimply youths had gotten the drop on them.
Not that they’d had the advantage for long. Dee dived one way, Ryo the other, drawing their weapons, flashing their badges, identifying themselves and ordering the youths to drop their weapons…
They tried to shoot their way out instead.
In such close quarters, with innocent lives at stake, there was no choice but to finish things quickly; one of the robbers died immediately, the other might survive.
Dee sighed, pouring himself and Ryo a shot of whiskey.
Hell of a day! They both needed a drop of the hard stuff.
The End