Protandry: ...Damn
Title: ...Damn
Warnings: Genderswap
Summary: In which Leona attempts totally innocent girl type bonding since acting like a cop isn't actually getting her anywhere with D... in her cases! Her cases!!
Recently, Leona’s found herself stopping her brain from side-tracking and it’s all because of a certain pet shop owner with long, slender legs right up to her…Damn!
She’s walking with D right now, both of them in a mutually agreed silence as they head towards the chocolate boutique Leona found a few days before. Eating ridiculous fattening things, complaining about them and generally doing some female bonding, all totally legit girl things. Not to mention a sure-fire way of getting through those charming, opaque smiles D likes to give, all while misdirecting any of Leona’s investigations. It’s totally not a date, honest, though D is good company...Damn!
They sit in the chocolate boutique while D drinks this thing, so thick with chocolate her spoon stands up in the middle of it. Her delicate-looking fingers stir the spoon, distracting Leona from her own mocha. Those long, claw-like nails gently trace the motif on the spoon and Leona’s wondering what holding that hand would feel like. Warm? Cold and scaly, like the criminal snake D is? As delicate as it looks, or as strong as Leona knows it is? …Damn!
Her coworkers tell a lot more lesbian jokes than usual, before she went on a coordinated ball busting with Jill. The cause of these jokes, D, sits in front of her, because Leona fucking invited her out and she feels like complaining. D’s not the usual type of perp, not someone can be manhandled into a confession. Wringing anything out of her requires chocolates, smiles, and wearing a skirt…Damn!
D’s got her whipped, Leona realises suddenly. She’s wearing a skirt, shoes bought from the women’s section instead of the men’s; she smokes girls’ cigarettes before entering D's shop. No one raises an eyebrow at a woman smoking strawberry flavoured cigarettes, and it means she can get her nicotine fix, frequent the weird Chinese shop with the awesome porn mags, and visit D without too much nose wrinkling. There’s still nose wrinkling, but a tiny Asian woman killing her customers with budgies won’t succeed where countless boyfriends failed.
“We should treat ourselves to manicures after this, Miss Detective. You have hangnails,” D comments, her cup empty. Leona feels ill on her behalf after watching her drink that much chocolate, but D looks downright perky.
Then she looks down at her nails.
“Yeah, you’re totally closing in on her.” Jill smirks, after Leona returns with pale, pink nails. Leona gives her the one-finger salute and spends the rest of the day typing very carefully.
…Damn.
Warnings: Genderswap
Summary: In which Leona attempts totally innocent girl type bonding since acting like a cop isn't actually getting her anywhere with D... in her cases! Her cases!!
Recently, Leona’s found herself stopping her brain from side-tracking and it’s all because of a certain pet shop owner with long, slender legs right up to her…Damn!
She’s walking with D right now, both of them in a mutually agreed silence as they head towards the chocolate boutique Leona found a few days before. Eating ridiculous fattening things, complaining about them and generally doing some female bonding, all totally legit girl things. Not to mention a sure-fire way of getting through those charming, opaque smiles D likes to give, all while misdirecting any of Leona’s investigations. It’s totally not a date, honest, though D is good company...Damn!
They sit in the chocolate boutique while D drinks this thing, so thick with chocolate her spoon stands up in the middle of it. Her delicate-looking fingers stir the spoon, distracting Leona from her own mocha. Those long, claw-like nails gently trace the motif on the spoon and Leona’s wondering what holding that hand would feel like. Warm? Cold and scaly, like the criminal snake D is? As delicate as it looks, or as strong as Leona knows it is? …Damn!
Her coworkers tell a lot more lesbian jokes than usual, before she went on a coordinated ball busting with Jill. The cause of these jokes, D, sits in front of her, because Leona fucking invited her out and she feels like complaining. D’s not the usual type of perp, not someone can be manhandled into a confession. Wringing anything out of her requires chocolates, smiles, and wearing a skirt…Damn!
D’s got her whipped, Leona realises suddenly. She’s wearing a skirt, shoes bought from the women’s section instead of the men’s; she smokes girls’ cigarettes before entering D's shop. No one raises an eyebrow at a woman smoking strawberry flavoured cigarettes, and it means she can get her nicotine fix, frequent the weird Chinese shop with the awesome porn mags, and visit D without too much nose wrinkling. There’s still nose wrinkling, but a tiny Asian woman killing her customers with budgies won’t succeed where countless boyfriends failed.
“We should treat ourselves to manicures after this, Miss Detective. You have hangnails,” D comments, her cup empty. Leona feels ill on her behalf after watching her drink that much chocolate, but D looks downright perky.
Then she looks down at her nails.
“Yeah, you’re totally closing in on her.” Jill smirks, after Leona returns with pale, pink nails. Leona gives her the one-finger salute and spends the rest of the day typing very carefully.
…Damn.