[Original: Drabble] "Event Security" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: Event Security
Prompt: writerverse challenge #02 mini table of doom (‘the good, the bad, the ugly’)
Word Count: 519
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell are assigned to a plain-clothes detail.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Event Security
As near as I could tell, my partner had no fashion sense, whatsoever.
I wasn’t all that much better, I’d be the first to admit that, but I also didn’t have more than a century of bad clothing choices to work with. In uniform, Howell was all spit and polish, the perfect image of a policeman. But when he had to pick out an outfit all by himself, there were problems.
Most of the time, he wasn’t actually that bad. Well, most of the time, he looked like somebody’s elderly maiden aunt had dressed him, but still… He was neat, he could match colors all right and he never wore socks with sandals, so I didn’t worry too much about being seen in public with him.
But sometimes, I wondered if maybe werewolves were colorblind in human form, too. Like last year’s Christmas party.
“It’s festive,” he growled, folding his arms across the shirt printed all over with hula-dancing Santas.
“No, sir,” I said, “my light-up novelty earrings are festive. That shirt is… garish.”
“It was a gift.”
“From someone you arrested?” I asked, and he scowled at me.
Tonight, though, we had been assigned as plain-clothes security for some gala fundraiser the mayor was throwing, and it was strictly formal (civilian) dress. I had the dress I’d worn to my high school senior prom- which, yes, still fit- but I was sort of dreading what my partner would show up in.
“I have a suit,” he said, shortly.
As usual, I paid no attention to his ‘why are you annoying me?’ glare. “Is it older than me? Did they have colored fabrics back then? Because my dress is silver and-”
“There have been colored fabrics since the ancient world,” said Howell. “And my suit is older than you.”
Before the fundraiser began, we were to have a final check-in just inside the service entrance. I’d had a bit of trouble with my dress on the subway, so I was a little late, and ended up on the edge of the group, five sets of partners.
“All right, then,” said our captain, when he’d finished. “You know your assignments. Get to work.”
Howell and I, being a boy-and-girl partnership, were assigned to mingle with the guests, and I looked around for him. “Oh,” I said. “Wow.”
My partner scowled at me. “Jones.” He was wearing a suit, yes, but not what I had expected. It was black, with a longer jacket like I’d seen in period movies and a matching waistcoat. He also had a silvery cravat-thing, which should have been ridiculous, but put all together with his slicked-back hair just made him look like the handsome prince from a fairy tale.
“You look… fantastic, sir,” I said, honestly. I hadn’t done any more than put on the dress and pin back a few locks of my hair with a sparkly clip, and I was actually feeling a little underdressed.
“And you look lovely, Hezekia,” he said, smiling.
I smiled back. “Shall we dance?”
“If by dance, you mean provide security to this event… then, I’d love to.”
THE END
Current Mood:
snowed in
Prompt: writerverse challenge #02 mini table of doom (‘the good, the bad, the ugly’)
Word Count: 519
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell are assigned to a plain-clothes detail.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Event Security
As near as I could tell, my partner had no fashion sense, whatsoever.
I wasn’t all that much better, I’d be the first to admit that, but I also didn’t have more than a century of bad clothing choices to work with. In uniform, Howell was all spit and polish, the perfect image of a policeman. But when he had to pick out an outfit all by himself, there were problems.
Most of the time, he wasn’t actually that bad. Well, most of the time, he looked like somebody’s elderly maiden aunt had dressed him, but still… He was neat, he could match colors all right and he never wore socks with sandals, so I didn’t worry too much about being seen in public with him.
But sometimes, I wondered if maybe werewolves were colorblind in human form, too. Like last year’s Christmas party.
“It’s festive,” he growled, folding his arms across the shirt printed all over with hula-dancing Santas.
“No, sir,” I said, “my light-up novelty earrings are festive. That shirt is… garish.”
“It was a gift.”
“From someone you arrested?” I asked, and he scowled at me.
Tonight, though, we had been assigned as plain-clothes security for some gala fundraiser the mayor was throwing, and it was strictly formal (civilian) dress. I had the dress I’d worn to my high school senior prom- which, yes, still fit- but I was sort of dreading what my partner would show up in.
“I have a suit,” he said, shortly.
As usual, I paid no attention to his ‘why are you annoying me?’ glare. “Is it older than me? Did they have colored fabrics back then? Because my dress is silver and-”
“There have been colored fabrics since the ancient world,” said Howell. “And my suit is older than you.”
Before the fundraiser began, we were to have a final check-in just inside the service entrance. I’d had a bit of trouble with my dress on the subway, so I was a little late, and ended up on the edge of the group, five sets of partners.
“All right, then,” said our captain, when he’d finished. “You know your assignments. Get to work.”
Howell and I, being a boy-and-girl partnership, were assigned to mingle with the guests, and I looked around for him. “Oh,” I said. “Wow.”
My partner scowled at me. “Jones.” He was wearing a suit, yes, but not what I had expected. It was black, with a longer jacket like I’d seen in period movies and a matching waistcoat. He also had a silvery cravat-thing, which should have been ridiculous, but put all together with his slicked-back hair just made him look like the handsome prince from a fairy tale.
“You look… fantastic, sir,” I said, honestly. I hadn’t done any more than put on the dress and pin back a few locks of my hair with a sparkly clip, and I was actually feeling a little underdressed.
“And you look lovely, Hezekia,” he said, smiling.
I smiled back. “Shall we dance?”
“If by dance, you mean provide security to this event… then, I’d love to.”
THE END
Current Mood:
snowed in