Protandry: A Change in Approach
Title: A Change in Approach
Warning: Genderswitch
Summary:In a world not to dissimilar to the manga, Leona Orcot walks into a certain Pet shop in Chinatown intent on questioning a Count D only to have to deal with his grandaughter which of course calls for a change of approach.
Notes: A longer version than the one posted on PSOHDrabbles
Leona walks into the shop and stops dead with a mental curse as the proprietor slips around the screen. Ok so she had been told this was the pet shop of Count D but that is most definitely a chick; Leona might like playing the dumb blond but she knows titties when she sees them and though small, those are definitely titties, small, probably a B and curving nicely, the embroidery on the tunic dress thing following them like it was deliberately made that way… why is she eyeing up another woman’s breasts?
Damn, anyway, so potential witness/suspect has suddenly changed gender, this calls for a whole different approach.
She chucks away the brash and direct behaviour that works for her with men, keeping them off guard as she pounds them with questions and accusations (hey nobody said her style was ~smooth~) “Hello I’m Detective Leona Orcot with the LAPD and I was hoping to talk to a Count D…” she hands her badge over smiling her best “I’m totally not a threat” smile, only slightly envious of the well-manicured nails she sees… though fuck are they long. Like mini daggers attached to the end of the flimsiest pair of fingers Leona’s ever seen. She keeps her stance relaxed, shoulders at ease and makes sure her movements aren’t as forceful as she watches the young woman take her badge, turn it over to check it (which is fishy) and then hand it back with a charming smile of her own, berry coloured lips curving minutely at the corners and making a pretty face into something a little more exotic.
“Oh I am sorry…” the pretty Chinese woman replies with a soft voice which must make men stand to attention when it slides over them like silk “… my grandfather is out of the country right now. Will I suffice?”
Well you’ll have to if he’s not here, Leona thinks with another mental curse but outwardly nods, keeping up her smile. Totally not in her plans. If Jill was here she’d be manoeuvring her partner forwards to take care of this because the only woman Leona has ever been able to without discomfort and constant worry is her mother (and slowly Jill herself but don’t tell Jill that, she already complains that she’s Leona’s babysitter.)
“Well you might have heard about the death of Robin Heindritch? Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course not…” eyes scan her hands so quick she almost doesn’t catch it “…Miss Detective… please takes a seat.”
“Thank you … uh… Miss D?”
“Just D will do please Miss Detective…”
So she takes a seat and sprawls because sometimes chicks aren’t so threatened when she acts more like a guy but a narrow eyed look at her stance has her sitting up a little more and frumbling for her barely used notebook and pen to try and look like she’s professional. Damn if she had known this was going to be a chick she would have worn that skirt at the back of her cupboard that goes over her knees and maybe that awful floral blouse that her aunt gave her last Christmas, no chick has ever though Leona’s threatening when she’s dressed like someone’s granny. Plus it might have made her feel a little neater in the face of the silk (silk in a pet store) that mi…D (Di? Dee? She’s going to need to track down someone in the department whose Chinese who can explain the name) is wearing.
She doubts very much though. A skirt and a blouse wouldn’t stand up to the dark silk with its embroidery, the under skirt, the delicate embroidered slippers and the elegant jewellery. Sitting there in old cheap pantsuit, she bought at the start of her career for her first court appearance, offset with a t-shirt she picked up for five bucks Leona is well aware of how her pony tail is coming out, her lack of makeup, her huge hands and feet, the pinch of her bra strap… everything basically. It’s like looking at a pure bred greyhound or something and realising you’re a mongrel from the pound. It’s not very nice but Leona pulls her big girl panties on (metaphorically) and treats D with the care and tact that Jill has been teaching her to use when dealing with someone with XX chromosomes (or wishing they had… whatever.)
For all her nice behaviour though she ends up with nothing more a possible charge of grave desecration because after the funeral D catches her and manipulates the well hidden romantic streak Leona’s gunna deny exists, dragging her along in the romantic moment of putting the lizard’s bones in with Heindritch.
Screw this. She’s getting nowhere. Next time she just treats the lovely Miss D like a male witness but brings Godiva because what woman can resist Godiva? She almost eats the box in the car herself. She kind of hopes the juxtaposition might throw D of kilter but it still doesn’t get her anywhere or anything close to evidence. All she gets is a hell of a lot of rabbit bites but she feels more affective anyway. D’s still speaking to her after all.
Warning: Genderswitch
Summary:In a world not to dissimilar to the manga, Leona Orcot walks into a certain Pet shop in Chinatown intent on questioning a Count D only to have to deal with his grandaughter which of course calls for a change of approach.
Notes: A longer version than the one posted on PSOHDrabbles
Leona walks into the shop and stops dead with a mental curse as the proprietor slips around the screen. Ok so she had been told this was the pet shop of Count D but that is most definitely a chick; Leona might like playing the dumb blond but she knows titties when she sees them and though small, those are definitely titties, small, probably a B and curving nicely, the embroidery on the tunic dress thing following them like it was deliberately made that way… why is she eyeing up another woman’s breasts?
Damn, anyway, so potential witness/suspect has suddenly changed gender, this calls for a whole different approach.
She chucks away the brash and direct behaviour that works for her with men, keeping them off guard as she pounds them with questions and accusations (hey nobody said her style was ~smooth~) “Hello I’m Detective Leona Orcot with the LAPD and I was hoping to talk to a Count D…” she hands her badge over smiling her best “I’m totally not a threat” smile, only slightly envious of the well-manicured nails she sees… though fuck are they long. Like mini daggers attached to the end of the flimsiest pair of fingers Leona’s ever seen. She keeps her stance relaxed, shoulders at ease and makes sure her movements aren’t as forceful as she watches the young woman take her badge, turn it over to check it (which is fishy) and then hand it back with a charming smile of her own, berry coloured lips curving minutely at the corners and making a pretty face into something a little more exotic.
“Oh I am sorry…” the pretty Chinese woman replies with a soft voice which must make men stand to attention when it slides over them like silk “… my grandfather is out of the country right now. Will I suffice?”
Well you’ll have to if he’s not here, Leona thinks with another mental curse but outwardly nods, keeping up her smile. Totally not in her plans. If Jill was here she’d be manoeuvring her partner forwards to take care of this because the only woman Leona has ever been able to without discomfort and constant worry is her mother (and slowly Jill herself but don’t tell Jill that, she already complains that she’s Leona’s babysitter.)
“Well you might have heard about the death of Robin Heindritch? Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course not…” eyes scan her hands so quick she almost doesn’t catch it “…Miss Detective… please takes a seat.”
“Thank you … uh… Miss D?”
“Just D will do please Miss Detective…”
So she takes a seat and sprawls because sometimes chicks aren’t so threatened when she acts more like a guy but a narrow eyed look at her stance has her sitting up a little more and frumbling for her barely used notebook and pen to try and look like she’s professional. Damn if she had known this was going to be a chick she would have worn that skirt at the back of her cupboard that goes over her knees and maybe that awful floral blouse that her aunt gave her last Christmas, no chick has ever though Leona’s threatening when she’s dressed like someone’s granny. Plus it might have made her feel a little neater in the face of the silk (silk in a pet store) that mi…D (Di? Dee? She’s going to need to track down someone in the department whose Chinese who can explain the name) is wearing.
She doubts very much though. A skirt and a blouse wouldn’t stand up to the dark silk with its embroidery, the under skirt, the delicate embroidered slippers and the elegant jewellery. Sitting there in old cheap pantsuit, she bought at the start of her career for her first court appearance, offset with a t-shirt she picked up for five bucks Leona is well aware of how her pony tail is coming out, her lack of makeup, her huge hands and feet, the pinch of her bra strap… everything basically. It’s like looking at a pure bred greyhound or something and realising you’re a mongrel from the pound. It’s not very nice but Leona pulls her big girl panties on (metaphorically) and treats D with the care and tact that Jill has been teaching her to use when dealing with someone with XX chromosomes (or wishing they had… whatever.)
For all her nice behaviour though she ends up with nothing more a possible charge of grave desecration because after the funeral D catches her and manipulates the well hidden romantic streak Leona’s gunna deny exists, dragging her along in the romantic moment of putting the lizard’s bones in with Heindritch.
Screw this. She’s getting nowhere. Next time she just treats the lovely Miss D like a male witness but brings Godiva because what woman can resist Godiva? She almost eats the box in the car herself. She kind of hopes the juxtaposition might throw D of kilter but it still doesn’t get her anywhere or anything close to evidence. All she gets is a hell of a lot of rabbit bites but she feels more affective anyway. D’s still speaking to her after all.