FAKE Fic: Making Things Better
Title: Making Things Better
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ryo, Dee, OC
Rating: PG
Setting: Between Vol. 5 and Vol. 6.
Summary: Ryo’s had a really bad day, but even the worst days can be improved.
Word Count: 803
Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, Dee/Ryo, Ice cream isn't a cure-all, but it doesn't hurt,’ at
fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Arriving home, Ryo slammed the door behind him and slumped wearily onto the sofa, tugging his shoes off and tossing them aside before putting his feet up. It had been a crap day from beginning to end, and part of him just wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over his head, and never come out again, but right at this moment, he was too tired to walk any further.
First thing this morning, on leaving his apartment, he’d found his car had a flat tire. There hadn’t been time to fix it, so he’d taken the subway instead, only to miss his stop because the car was so crowded he hadn’t been able to reach the door before it closed again. Getting off at the next stop, he’d walked back, arriving at the precinct late for the start of his shift for the first time ever. It hadn’t been an auspicious start to the day, and things had gone rapidly downhill from there.
For a start, he discovered that after he’d hand delivered it and signed it over the night before, the lab had managed to misplace an essential piece of evidence for one of their current cases. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his computer had then compounded things by crashing, losing the almost complete report he’d been writing, so he’d been forced to start from scratch again. Almost an hour’s painstaking collating of notes, facts, and witness statements down the drain in an instant. Stupid technology.
By the time the report was re-done he’d been more than ready for a bit of a break over lunch, but instead he’d wound up chasing a suspect, only to get caught on a sharp piece of metal while scaling a fence, tearing both his pants and his leg. The suspect had gotten away, and Ryo had spent the next two hours in the ER, having a three inch gash in his thigh stitched and dressed, and getting a tetanus injection into the bargain because of course he was overdue for a booster.
Naturally he’d been wearing a suit at the time, the pants of which were now ruined beyond repair. That kind of accident never happened when he was wearing easily replaceable slacks or jeans, so now he’d have to go shopping and shell out for a new suit.
It was a relief to finally be home; he’d caught a taxi from the hospital and come straight back to his apartment, longing to put his feet up and let the ache in his injured leg from climbing three flights of stairs subside.
Tired, sore, ravenously hungry through not having anything to eat since breakfast at seven-thirty that morning, in a seriously bad mood, and completely alone because Bikky was away at summer camp, Ryo closed his eyes and granted himself the luxury of wallowing in abject misery for a while. He’d wash up and get something to eat once his leg stopped throbbing.
His well-deserved moping was interrupted by the front door opening.
“How many times do I have to tell ya to lock your door?” Dee asked, letting himself in without being invited, and shutting the door behind him.
Ryo didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Don’t start, Dee, I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled petulantly.
“Yeah, I figured as much, which is why I’m here.” There was a rustling sound, and then a wonderful aroma reached Ryo’s nose. “Thought you’d probably be hungry but too tired to cook, so I picked up Chinese on my way over. Here. Dig in.” Chopsticks were pushed into Ryo’s hand, and the coffee table, laden with assorted open cartons, moved closer so he could reach everything easily without having to move.
Opening his eyes, Ryo surveyed the array of food, which included all his favourites. “Dee, I don’t know what to say. This is just…”
Dee cut him off. “Ya don’t have to say anything, just eat. Gotta keep your strength up. Oh, and make sure you leave some room, there’s ice cream for dessert, mint choc chip.”
A smile lit up Ryo’s face. “My favourite!”
“’Course, what would be the point of bringin’ something ya don’t like? Thought it might cheer ya up a bit. I know ice cream isn't a cure-all, but it sure as hell doesn't hurt.”
“Thank you.”
Shrugging, Dee sat on the floor at the other side of the coffee table, helping himself from one of the cartons. “No thanks necessary, it’s what friends do for each other, and we are at least friends, right?”
“Yes, we are.”
“I went by the hospital to pick ya up, but you’d already left. Pretty rough day, huh?”
“The worst in a long time,” Ryo admitted with a wry smile. “But you know what? It just got a whole lot better.”
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ryo, Dee, OC
Rating: PG
Setting: Between Vol. 5 and Vol. 6.
Summary: Ryo’s had a really bad day, but even the worst days can be improved.
Word Count: 803
Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, Dee/Ryo, Ice cream isn't a cure-all, but it doesn't hurt,’ at
fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Arriving home, Ryo slammed the door behind him and slumped wearily onto the sofa, tugging his shoes off and tossing them aside before putting his feet up. It had been a crap day from beginning to end, and part of him just wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over his head, and never come out again, but right at this moment, he was too tired to walk any further.
First thing this morning, on leaving his apartment, he’d found his car had a flat tire. There hadn’t been time to fix it, so he’d taken the subway instead, only to miss his stop because the car was so crowded he hadn’t been able to reach the door before it closed again. Getting off at the next stop, he’d walked back, arriving at the precinct late for the start of his shift for the first time ever. It hadn’t been an auspicious start to the day, and things had gone rapidly downhill from there.
For a start, he discovered that after he’d hand delivered it and signed it over the night before, the lab had managed to misplace an essential piece of evidence for one of their current cases. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his computer had then compounded things by crashing, losing the almost complete report he’d been writing, so he’d been forced to start from scratch again. Almost an hour’s painstaking collating of notes, facts, and witness statements down the drain in an instant. Stupid technology.
By the time the report was re-done he’d been more than ready for a bit of a break over lunch, but instead he’d wound up chasing a suspect, only to get caught on a sharp piece of metal while scaling a fence, tearing both his pants and his leg. The suspect had gotten away, and Ryo had spent the next two hours in the ER, having a three inch gash in his thigh stitched and dressed, and getting a tetanus injection into the bargain because of course he was overdue for a booster.
Naturally he’d been wearing a suit at the time, the pants of which were now ruined beyond repair. That kind of accident never happened when he was wearing easily replaceable slacks or jeans, so now he’d have to go shopping and shell out for a new suit.
It was a relief to finally be home; he’d caught a taxi from the hospital and come straight back to his apartment, longing to put his feet up and let the ache in his injured leg from climbing three flights of stairs subside.
Tired, sore, ravenously hungry through not having anything to eat since breakfast at seven-thirty that morning, in a seriously bad mood, and completely alone because Bikky was away at summer camp, Ryo closed his eyes and granted himself the luxury of wallowing in abject misery for a while. He’d wash up and get something to eat once his leg stopped throbbing.
His well-deserved moping was interrupted by the front door opening.
“How many times do I have to tell ya to lock your door?” Dee asked, letting himself in without being invited, and shutting the door behind him.
Ryo didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Don’t start, Dee, I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled petulantly.
“Yeah, I figured as much, which is why I’m here.” There was a rustling sound, and then a wonderful aroma reached Ryo’s nose. “Thought you’d probably be hungry but too tired to cook, so I picked up Chinese on my way over. Here. Dig in.” Chopsticks were pushed into Ryo’s hand, and the coffee table, laden with assorted open cartons, moved closer so he could reach everything easily without having to move.
Opening his eyes, Ryo surveyed the array of food, which included all his favourites. “Dee, I don’t know what to say. This is just…”
Dee cut him off. “Ya don’t have to say anything, just eat. Gotta keep your strength up. Oh, and make sure you leave some room, there’s ice cream for dessert, mint choc chip.”
A smile lit up Ryo’s face. “My favourite!”
“’Course, what would be the point of bringin’ something ya don’t like? Thought it might cheer ya up a bit. I know ice cream isn't a cure-all, but it sure as hell doesn't hurt.”
“Thank you.”
Shrugging, Dee sat on the floor at the other side of the coffee table, helping himself from one of the cartons. “No thanks necessary, it’s what friends do for each other, and we are at least friends, right?”
“Yes, we are.”
“I went by the hospital to pick ya up, but you’d already left. Pretty rough day, huh?”
“The worst in a long time,” Ryo admitted with a wry smile. “But you know what? It just got a whole lot better.”
The End