Fic: Parallels
Fic: Parallels
Fandom: Saiyuki? Weiß Kreuz? You decide.
Pairing: none
Rating: PG
Word count: 314
Beta: whymzycal
The din inside the flower shop was grating on Sanzo’s last nerve.
Gojyo, a pair of sunglasses perched ridiculously low on his nose, sweet-talked a young woman into buying four dozen long-stemmed roses by bending over just so into the refrigerated unit. His cropped shirt had already been showing more of his stomach than was decent when she walked in, and as he bent over now, his pants slipped down a fraction lower, revealing still more of the pervert’s bare skin -- if that were even possible.
Hakkai’s long-suffering expression, the one he always wore on noisy weekday afternoons, didn’t change as he counted the till. He marked their earnings down in a ledger, shaking his head in exasperation. With the number of screaming girls that came in on a daily basis, it was a mystery how the Kitten’s House made no profit. What was even more of a mystery was why Hakkai had suddenly decided on wearing shorts and why his damn socks wouldn’t stay the fuck up.
Goku bounded up to Sanzo in a pair of ridiculous shorts and sneakers, a sweatshirt tied around his waist. He was a bundle of energy just waiting to explode. ‘Sanzo! Sanzo! Can I have a few hours off to play soccer with the school kids?”
Sanzo had had enough. Enough of perverts, flowers, school girls, and monkeys.
“Buy something or get out!” His shout cut through the din as he reached for his gun. Pelting the pervert and the monkey with water from a spray bottle wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying as it was to shoot with cold, hard bullets. When he found out what demon had done this to them, it would have to die. And then maybe some idiot would buy flowers from their shop to decorate the grave.
Sanzo was determined that one day they’d make money. Or at least break even.
Fandom: Saiyuki? Weiß Kreuz? You decide.
Pairing: none
Rating: PG
Word count: 314
Beta: whymzycal
The din inside the flower shop was grating on Sanzo’s last nerve.
Gojyo, a pair of sunglasses perched ridiculously low on his nose, sweet-talked a young woman into buying four dozen long-stemmed roses by bending over just so into the refrigerated unit. His cropped shirt had already been showing more of his stomach than was decent when she walked in, and as he bent over now, his pants slipped down a fraction lower, revealing still more of the pervert’s bare skin -- if that were even possible.
Hakkai’s long-suffering expression, the one he always wore on noisy weekday afternoons, didn’t change as he counted the till. He marked their earnings down in a ledger, shaking his head in exasperation. With the number of screaming girls that came in on a daily basis, it was a mystery how the Kitten’s House made no profit. What was even more of a mystery was why Hakkai had suddenly decided on wearing shorts and why his damn socks wouldn’t stay the fuck up.
Goku bounded up to Sanzo in a pair of ridiculous shorts and sneakers, a sweatshirt tied around his waist. He was a bundle of energy just waiting to explode. ‘Sanzo! Sanzo! Can I have a few hours off to play soccer with the school kids?”
Sanzo had had enough. Enough of perverts, flowers, school girls, and monkeys.
“Buy something or get out!” His shout cut through the din as he reached for his gun. Pelting the pervert and the monkey with water from a spray bottle wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying as it was to shoot with cold, hard bullets. When he found out what demon had done this to them, it would have to die. And then maybe some idiot would buy flowers from their shop to decorate the grave.
Sanzo was determined that one day they’d make money. Or at least break even.