[Original: Drabble] "Itch to Scratch" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: Itch to Scratch
Prompt: writerverse challenge #02 September table of doom
Line Used: “ ‘It isn’t a spell, Artie,’ Dean said.” (Supernatural: Nevermore by Keith R.A. DeCandido, page 222)
Word Count: 304
Rating:
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: “Are you allergic to anything?”
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Itch to Scratch
“It’s not a spell, Jones,” said Howell, less patiently than the last three times he’d said it.
“But it has to be!” I protested.
Unusually for me, I had taken off my uniform shirt when we’d come back into the precinct building, leaving me in just my black t-shirt. But my arms were so damn itchy that I couldn’t stand having it on.
“There are any number of things it could be,” said Howell. “Are you allergic to anything?”
“No,” I said, stubbornly, “it’s a curse. That crazy witch-lady we gave a ticket to yesterday, she cursed me.”
“It’s not a curse,” my partner said. “It could be poison ivy.”
“We live in a major metropolitan area. And anyway, I’m immune to poison ivy.”
“Fine,” said Howell. He opened his desk drawer and took out one of the sterile gauze pads we use for collecting evidence. I yelped as he swiped it over the rash on my arm, none too gently, then sealed it into an evidence bag. “Go have one of the geeks downstairs run this.”
“They don’t like being called geeks,” I said, which was a blatant lie, because the evidence techs downstairs had a sign on their lab door that read Beware of Geeks.
I never had any fear, of course. As a former librarian, I was always welcome in the lab, especially because I tended to respond to streams of techno-babble with ‘hey, cool’ instead of ‘was that English?’
A few hours later, when Howell and I had returned from our patrol, Aaron met me in the squad room lobby. “Hey, Jones,” he said. “Got your results.”
“Acceptable timing,” said Howell, swiping the print-out before I could see it. “It’s not a spell. Or a curse.”
“Then what is it?” I asked.
His smirk was almost a smile. “Itching powder.”
THE END
Current Mood:
cold
Prompt: writerverse challenge #02 September table of doom
Line Used: “ ‘It isn’t a spell, Artie,’ Dean said.” (Supernatural: Nevermore by Keith R.A. DeCandido, page 222)
Word Count: 304
Rating:
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: “Are you allergic to anything?”
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Itch to Scratch
“It’s not a spell, Jones,” said Howell, less patiently than the last three times he’d said it.
“But it has to be!” I protested.
Unusually for me, I had taken off my uniform shirt when we’d come back into the precinct building, leaving me in just my black t-shirt. But my arms were so damn itchy that I couldn’t stand having it on.
“There are any number of things it could be,” said Howell. “Are you allergic to anything?”
“No,” I said, stubbornly, “it’s a curse. That crazy witch-lady we gave a ticket to yesterday, she cursed me.”
“It’s not a curse,” my partner said. “It could be poison ivy.”
“We live in a major metropolitan area. And anyway, I’m immune to poison ivy.”
“Fine,” said Howell. He opened his desk drawer and took out one of the sterile gauze pads we use for collecting evidence. I yelped as he swiped it over the rash on my arm, none too gently, then sealed it into an evidence bag. “Go have one of the geeks downstairs run this.”
“They don’t like being called geeks,” I said, which was a blatant lie, because the evidence techs downstairs had a sign on their lab door that read Beware of Geeks.
I never had any fear, of course. As a former librarian, I was always welcome in the lab, especially because I tended to respond to streams of techno-babble with ‘hey, cool’ instead of ‘was that English?’
A few hours later, when Howell and I had returned from our patrol, Aaron met me in the squad room lobby. “Hey, Jones,” he said. “Got your results.”
“Acceptable timing,” said Howell, swiping the print-out before I could see it. “It’s not a spell. Or a curse.”
“Then what is it?” I asked.
His smirk was almost a smile. “Itching powder.”
THE END
Current Mood:
cold