FAKE Ficlet: Not So Bad
Title: Not So Bad
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee, Ryo.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Dee hadn’t been happy when the two-seven had been moved into the 19th Precinct’s old station house, but now he’s settled in he’s finding it’s not so bad.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Challenge 223: Station at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters.
Their former station house had been much roomier than the premises that now housed the 27th Precinct, and yet despite Dee’s annoyance at their not getting a new build with all new equipment, after three years he had to admit it wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought. It had gained a reassuring familiarity.
Okay, so the décor was the same as any other station house in New York. Shabby greyish paintwork, scuffed linoleum tiles on the floors, beat-up wooden desks that were probably getting on for fifty years old, and grimy windows, but the place was closer to home for both himself and Ryo, meaning shorter commutes.
The firing range in the basement was smaller, but the roof was higher and more sheltered. The file room was less secluded, being on the first floor, but now he and Ryo had their own office, with blinds on the windows, and a lockable door. They’d even been permitted to install a coffee machine and a small refrigerator in there, and to replace the standard issue desk chairs with more comfortable ones Dee had bought for a bargain price in a thrift shop. Ryo had added a couple of potted plants on the windowsills, and a cheerful wall calendar, while the filing cabinets, drawers, and cupboards had plenty of room in them for snacks and other essentials such as wet wipes, lube, and air freshener.
Dee followed Ryo into their office, closing the door behind him, and dragged his desk chair over to the radiator, tugging damp boots off and pressing his cold feet to the heat, something he couldn’t have done at the old place without the Chief seeing and getting on his case.
“Man, that feels good!” he sighed, glancing across at Ryo, who was making coffee. “You should try it.”
“Not until I’ve got a hot coffee to warm my hands.”
It was bitterly cold out, had to be below freezing, with the snow already ankle deep, and a biting wind blowing, but here in their office, with the door closed against the draughts that permeated the more open areas of the building, it was nice and toasty.
“Here.”
Dee looked up at his partner and grinned, accepting the steaming mug. “Thanks, bud.” He rolled his chair aside far enough to make room by the radiator for Ryo, and the pair of them sat there as the wind howled faintly behind the closed blinds. Hands wrapped around their mugs, their socked feet against the heater, they gradually thawed out from a morning spent at a murder scene in an alleyway that could have doubled as a wind tunnel.
There was silence for several long minutes as both men drank in the warmth along with their coffee. Finally Ryo stirred, getting to his feet and padding over to the coffee machine for a refill.
“You want another?”
“Please.” Dee handed Ryo his mug and stretched. “Home, sweet home.”
“I thought you hated this place.”
Dee shrugged. “It’s growin’ on me.”
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee, Ryo.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Dee hadn’t been happy when the two-seven had been moved into the 19th Precinct’s old station house, but now he’s settled in he’s finding it’s not so bad.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Challenge 223: Station at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters.
Their former station house had been much roomier than the premises that now housed the 27th Precinct, and yet despite Dee’s annoyance at their not getting a new build with all new equipment, after three years he had to admit it wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought. It had gained a reassuring familiarity.
Okay, so the décor was the same as any other station house in New York. Shabby greyish paintwork, scuffed linoleum tiles on the floors, beat-up wooden desks that were probably getting on for fifty years old, and grimy windows, but the place was closer to home for both himself and Ryo, meaning shorter commutes.
The firing range in the basement was smaller, but the roof was higher and more sheltered. The file room was less secluded, being on the first floor, but now he and Ryo had their own office, with blinds on the windows, and a lockable door. They’d even been permitted to install a coffee machine and a small refrigerator in there, and to replace the standard issue desk chairs with more comfortable ones Dee had bought for a bargain price in a thrift shop. Ryo had added a couple of potted plants on the windowsills, and a cheerful wall calendar, while the filing cabinets, drawers, and cupboards had plenty of room in them for snacks and other essentials such as wet wipes, lube, and air freshener.
Dee followed Ryo into their office, closing the door behind him, and dragged his desk chair over to the radiator, tugging damp boots off and pressing his cold feet to the heat, something he couldn’t have done at the old place without the Chief seeing and getting on his case.
“Man, that feels good!” he sighed, glancing across at Ryo, who was making coffee. “You should try it.”
“Not until I’ve got a hot coffee to warm my hands.”
It was bitterly cold out, had to be below freezing, with the snow already ankle deep, and a biting wind blowing, but here in their office, with the door closed against the draughts that permeated the more open areas of the building, it was nice and toasty.
“Here.”
Dee looked up at his partner and grinned, accepting the steaming mug. “Thanks, bud.” He rolled his chair aside far enough to make room by the radiator for Ryo, and the pair of them sat there as the wind howled faintly behind the closed blinds. Hands wrapped around their mugs, their socked feet against the heater, they gradually thawed out from a morning spent at a murder scene in an alleyway that could have doubled as a wind tunnel.
There was silence for several long minutes as both men drank in the warmth along with their coffee. Finally Ryo stirred, getting to his feet and padding over to the coffee machine for a refill.
“You want another?”
“Please.” Dee handed Ryo his mug and stretched. “Home, sweet home.”
“I thought you hated this place.”
Dee shrugged. “It’s growin’ on me.”
The End