drabble-ish thing for tinyangl - Code Blue, PG
word count: 270 words
rating: PG
pairing: Aizawa/Shiraishi (Code Blue)
prompt: A round at the bar.
He slides in. She barely notices him. It's become their habit.
She's already halfway into her Gin and Tonic, rolling her stirrer back and forth between her fingertips. He orders whiskey on the rocks; it has to be Yamazaki 12-year single malt, nothing else will do. She doesn't care for Yamazaki herself, preferring the blended Hibiki instead when she does reach for a glass of whiskey (which isn't all that often). This is just another one of the many differences between them.
They don't speak a single word to each other. The bartender delivers his whiskey and he swishes it around once in the tumbler before taking in a slow sip, clearly savoring it as its flavor and warmth washes over his tongue and down his throat. She takes in more of her drink, which is definitely heavier on the gin, just the way she likes it. The silence is hardly uneasy and alien, rather it's familiar and comfortable. Not exactly cozy, but warm.
Years ago, the idea of their relationship being anything close to warm was unbelievable. Unthinkable. Unimaginable. But they had grown, both together and apart, and they were the better for it. Better doctors, better people, better to each other.
Fifteen minutes after arriving, Aizawa finally turns and looks at her, catching her gaze. He simply stares for a moment, before carefully reaching out and straightening her slightly crooked collar on her woolen coat.
"How was your day?"
Shirashi notes how his fingers linger just a little longer on her collar than needed and smiles.
"Long. But good."
When they end like this, they are always good.
rating: PG
pairing: Aizawa/Shiraishi (Code Blue)
prompt: A round at the bar.
He slides in. She barely notices him. It's become their habit.
She's already halfway into her Gin and Tonic, rolling her stirrer back and forth between her fingertips. He orders whiskey on the rocks; it has to be Yamazaki 12-year single malt, nothing else will do. She doesn't care for Yamazaki herself, preferring the blended Hibiki instead when she does reach for a glass of whiskey (which isn't all that often). This is just another one of the many differences between them.
They don't speak a single word to each other. The bartender delivers his whiskey and he swishes it around once in the tumbler before taking in a slow sip, clearly savoring it as its flavor and warmth washes over his tongue and down his throat. She takes in more of her drink, which is definitely heavier on the gin, just the way she likes it. The silence is hardly uneasy and alien, rather it's familiar and comfortable. Not exactly cozy, but warm.
Years ago, the idea of their relationship being anything close to warm was unbelievable. Unthinkable. Unimaginable. But they had grown, both together and apart, and they were the better for it. Better doctors, better people, better to each other.
Fifteen minutes after arriving, Aizawa finally turns and looks at her, catching her gaze. He simply stares for a moment, before carefully reaching out and straightening her slightly crooked collar on her woolen coat.
"How was your day?"
Shirashi notes how his fingers linger just a little longer on her collar than needed and smiles.
"Long. But good."
When they end like this, they are always good.