Art Appreciation - A Blood Ties Fanfic
For once, Vicki Nelson was smiling with satisfaction. She had wrapped up three cases, been paid for all three, got caught up on the rent, paid Coreen, and still had money left in the bank. Yes, she thought happily, this is the way things are supposed to be!
She thought about pulling the files for tomorrow's cases early, feeling energized, ambitious and on top of her game. The sound of familiar footsteps in the hall made her look toward her office door.
"Is it considered justifiable homicide when they really deserve it?"
"Well, hi to you too, Mike. Don't tell me - Crowley, being her usual charming pain in the ass?"
"Let me rephrase that - if they really deserve it AND have fangs?"
"Henry? Well, he can't be snoring too loud. What did he do this time?"
"Check out page 42," Mike groused, passing Vicki a paperback book with a lurid cover featuring some kind of monster with glowing red eyes and rows and rows of dripping fangs. "Blood Hounds," proclaimed the cover in deep crimson lettering. By Henry Fitzroy. As Vicki thumbed to the right page, Mike kept talking. "I only found out about it because I was at Dave's brother's wedding, and some kids there were looking at it, then looking at me, pointing and laughing."
Suddenly Vicki erupted in uncontrollable laughter. She had obviously found page 42, and found herself staring at a drawing of Mike being held aloft by one leg by the Hellhound on the cover, his beige trench coat flapping around him. The Hound was easily twice the size of the detective, and while the image was certainly fearsome - not at all a laughing matter, Vicki tried to tell herself, in a vain effort to stop howling with laughter, the look on Mike's face was just so absurd, so - pardon the pun - comical, that she just couldn't stop, even when she had to hold her sides with one hand, and wipe her eyes with the other.
"Oh, that's just great, Vic, you're even louder than those kids!"
"I'm sorry, Mike," Vicki tried for a straight face, and failed miserably. Within seconds she was laughing so hard her stomach and her jaws were starting to hurt.
"That's just peachy, Vic, see you around!" Turning to leave in a huff, he crashed right into the architect of Vicki's merriment, none other than Henry Fitzroy himself. He, of course, had heard Vicki raucous laughter before even entering her building, and when he saw what she was holding, he realized the cause. So, he was half-expecting it when when Mike grabbed his shirt with both fists, yelling "DAMMIT, FITZROY!" But, before he could follow through with forcing Henry through the nearest wall, Henry took both wrists in his hands, squeezing just hard enough to remind Mike who the stronger man was, despite appearances to the contrary. "Control yourself, detective."
Mike let go reluctantly. Then, just because he could, Henry made a show of straightening the lapels of Mike's trench coat.
"Look, Vic, I'll see you later." On his way out of the office, he glared at Henry, just wishing he could punch that smirk off his face.
Vicki had finally gotten her laughing under control. "Henry, you shouldn't antagonize him so much."
"A man's got to have a hobby."
"Yeah, well, for you it's more like a calling." His smirk grew into a full-on grin. "Is that the only page you've looked at?"
"Yeah, so far. Why?"
"Then you haven't seen page 137. It's one of my favorites."
"Come on, Henry, what did you do, bring him back from the dead as something disgusting?"
Henry raised one eyebrow, a speculative look. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. But go ahead, take a look."
Finally, Vicki found the right page, and what she saw made her eyes go wide with surprise and shock. Vicki, in full Warrior Princess mode, complete with leather tunic, chain mail, silver wrist cuffs, scabbard, and a very large, very lethal-looking sword. A sword which she had just driven through the throat of the Hellhound.
"Henry, I...I don't know what to say."
"Say you like it."
"I do, I'm just...wow!"
"I just draw what I see."
"Well, I'm...honored, really!"
"Glad to hear it. Now, will you return the honor, and allow me to take you to dinner?"
"You mean a date? A real one this time?"
"With your permission."
Vicki set the book down on her desk, and Henry helped her into her coat. Then together, they left the office for the cool night outside.
She thought about pulling the files for tomorrow's cases early, feeling energized, ambitious and on top of her game. The sound of familiar footsteps in the hall made her look toward her office door.
"Is it considered justifiable homicide when they really deserve it?"
"Well, hi to you too, Mike. Don't tell me - Crowley, being her usual charming pain in the ass?"
"Let me rephrase that - if they really deserve it AND have fangs?"
"Henry? Well, he can't be snoring too loud. What did he do this time?"
"Check out page 42," Mike groused, passing Vicki a paperback book with a lurid cover featuring some kind of monster with glowing red eyes and rows and rows of dripping fangs. "Blood Hounds," proclaimed the cover in deep crimson lettering. By Henry Fitzroy. As Vicki thumbed to the right page, Mike kept talking. "I only found out about it because I was at Dave's brother's wedding, and some kids there were looking at it, then looking at me, pointing and laughing."
Suddenly Vicki erupted in uncontrollable laughter. She had obviously found page 42, and found herself staring at a drawing of Mike being held aloft by one leg by the Hellhound on the cover, his beige trench coat flapping around him. The Hound was easily twice the size of the detective, and while the image was certainly fearsome - not at all a laughing matter, Vicki tried to tell herself, in a vain effort to stop howling with laughter, the look on Mike's face was just so absurd, so - pardon the pun - comical, that she just couldn't stop, even when she had to hold her sides with one hand, and wipe her eyes with the other.
"Oh, that's just great, Vic, you're even louder than those kids!"
"I'm sorry, Mike," Vicki tried for a straight face, and failed miserably. Within seconds she was laughing so hard her stomach and her jaws were starting to hurt.
"That's just peachy, Vic, see you around!" Turning to leave in a huff, he crashed right into the architect of Vicki's merriment, none other than Henry Fitzroy himself. He, of course, had heard Vicki raucous laughter before even entering her building, and when he saw what she was holding, he realized the cause. So, he was half-expecting it when when Mike grabbed his shirt with both fists, yelling "DAMMIT, FITZROY!" But, before he could follow through with forcing Henry through the nearest wall, Henry took both wrists in his hands, squeezing just hard enough to remind Mike who the stronger man was, despite appearances to the contrary. "Control yourself, detective."
Mike let go reluctantly. Then, just because he could, Henry made a show of straightening the lapels of Mike's trench coat.
"Look, Vic, I'll see you later." On his way out of the office, he glared at Henry, just wishing he could punch that smirk off his face.
Vicki had finally gotten her laughing under control. "Henry, you shouldn't antagonize him so much."
"A man's got to have a hobby."
"Yeah, well, for you it's more like a calling." His smirk grew into a full-on grin. "Is that the only page you've looked at?"
"Yeah, so far. Why?"
"Then you haven't seen page 137. It's one of my favorites."
"Come on, Henry, what did you do, bring him back from the dead as something disgusting?"
Henry raised one eyebrow, a speculative look. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. But go ahead, take a look."
Finally, Vicki found the right page, and what she saw made her eyes go wide with surprise and shock. Vicki, in full Warrior Princess mode, complete with leather tunic, chain mail, silver wrist cuffs, scabbard, and a very large, very lethal-looking sword. A sword which she had just driven through the throat of the Hellhound.
"Henry, I...I don't know what to say."
"Say you like it."
"I do, I'm just...wow!"
"I just draw what I see."
"Well, I'm...honored, really!"
"Glad to hear it. Now, will you return the honor, and allow me to take you to dinner?"
"You mean a date? A real one this time?"
"With your permission."
Vicki set the book down on her desk, and Henry helped her into her coat. Then together, they left the office for the cool night outside.