FAKE Fic: Just One Of Those Days
Title: Just One Of Those Days
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee, JJ, Ryo
Rating: PG
Setting: Somewhere in the middle of the manga, I guess.
Summary: JJ is being his usual irritating self, and Dee’s had enough.
Word Count: 949
Written For:
secretstaircase’s prompt ‘Author's choice, author's choice, Not if we were the last two people on Earth!’ at
fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
JJ’s at it again, babbling on non-stop about… well, the same things JJ always babbles about: true love, dating, romantic evenings, being together forever, and doesn’t he ever just shut up? He’s like the Duracell bunny on speed, bouncing around, waving his arms about, eyes shining with hope. The constant chatter is not only driving Dee mad, it’s giving him the mother of all headaches.
He’s told JJ over and over that he’s Just. Not. Interested! It does no good; apparently the little guy has selective hearing, because Dee’s words seem to go in one ear and straight out the other without even registering. It’s beyond frustrating and Dee’s running out of things to try.
It’s not that Dee wants to hurt JJ. Well, okay, yeah, sometimes he does, but mostly he just wants to be left alone, so he can pine over the object of his own desires, his gorgeous partner Ryo Maclean. In the back of his mind, Dee can sort of understand how JJ feels, except that nothing seems to dent JJ’s optimism, while Dee is starting to wonder if he’s wasting his time lusting after Ryo. It’s beginning to look like they’ll never be more than just good friends and work partners.
“…picnics, and romantic nights in by a roaring fire, where you’ll hold me in your big, strong arms and tell me how much you love me, and we’ll make sweet love in the firelight all night long and in the morning…” It’s scary how long JJ can ramble on without pausing for breath, but Dee’s reached the end of his tether and he finally snaps.
“Enough!”
Surging to his feet, drawing himself up to his full six feet two inches (more or less. Well, okay, a bit less, but who’s counting?), Dee slams down the file he’s been trying to read on the top of his desk, using every scrap of strength he can muster. For a split second, he thinks that might have been a serious misjudgement as the desk rocks alarmingly and one of the legs creaks, but it holds. He’s still careful not to put his full weight on it though, as he leans forward, hands flat on the desktop, and looms over the much smaller man. The entire squad room has gone deathly silent and even JJ’s inane chatter has stopped. Everyone seems to be holding their breath; you really could hear a pin drop.
“What do I have to do to get it through your thick skull that I’m not interested? There’s nothing between us, there never has been and there never will be; whatever romantic notions you have, they’re all in your head! I wouldn’t want you even if we were the last two people alive on the entire planet! NOW LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!” Dee’s pretty sure he’s practically foaming at the mouth by now, and yelling like that isn’t helping his headache any, but he can’t help himself. A man can only take so much.
JJ stares at him, eyes wide with shock, then hightails it out of there, muttering something about it being unfair of Dee to take his bad mood out on him.
Sagging, Dee slumps back into his chair, head in his hands. He has a sinking feeling that somehow JJ has still managed to completely miss the point, but right now he’s too tired, and his head hurts too much for him to care. He’ll worry about that tomorrow, just like he does every day. The rate things are going JJ is going to give him ulcers.
People clear their throats and shuffle papers on their desks, conversations re-start, and the squad room returns to normal. Dee’s still sitting there, wallowing in self pity, when a warm hand comes to rest on his shoulder as a glass of water and some painkillers are set before him on his desk.
“Here, you look like you could use these.”
Dee looks up into warm, dark eyes and smiles in gratitude. “Thanks. My head’s killing me.”
Ryo settles at his own side of their back-to-back desks, facing Dee across the clutter generated by their current case.
“Try not to be too hard on JJ, he doesn’t mean to be annoying, he just really likes you.”
“I know.” Dee sighs heavily, knocks back two of the pills with a gulp of water, and leans back in his chair, massaging his temples. “It’s just…” He waves one hand helplessly.
“Frustrating? Annoying? Irritating?”
“All that and more. I’ve tried everything, but it’s like he has some kind of mental block that won’t let him understand. And I don’t want to have to re-locate again. If he keeps this up, I might have to resort to taking out a restraining order against him!”
Ryo snorts softly. “Oh, that would make working here awkward.” He’s smiling, and oh how Dee loves that gently amused look.
He smiles back, starting to relax. “I guess.”
A uniformed officer arrives with a stack of files.
“Got the files you requested, detectives, where d’you want ‘em?”
Once again, Dee waves a hand vaguely. It’s about all he can manage right now with his head pounding. “Just put ‘em somewhere on my desk, if you can find a space.”
Pushing some papers aside carefully, the young man sets the files down and is halfway to the squad room door when Dee’s desk gives an ominous creak. Before anyone can move, there’s a resounding crack as one leg snaps, the desk tilts and like a slow-moving avalanche, everything slides off it, scattering across the floor.
Burying his head in his hands again, Dee groans; looks like it’s just gonna be one of those days.
The End