Title: Financial Support
Prompt:
writerverse challenge #03 march mini table of doom, prompt #17 ‘low risk’
Word Count: 401
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original (
Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Zeke and Howell talk about finances.
Note(s): originally posted to the
writerverse wv_library Financial Support
Sometimes, I wondered why Howell wasn’t sick of me already. We spent twelve-hours a night together at work, but more and more, we seemed to be spending our off hours together, too.
But the absolute weirdest so far had to be sitting at my tiny kitchen table, watching my partner look over my tax paperwork.
“Have you thought about making any investments?” he asked.
I hadn’t.
I had inherited the apartment when my parents died, but I’d also gotten a sizable amount of money from their life insurance policies. And after paying for the tuition that my two-thirds scholarship hadn’t covered, I’d just left it in the bank. I was a librarian who’d become a cop, I didn’t spend much time thinking about money unless I needed to.
“Like the stock market?” I asked.
“Not necessarily,” said Howell. “Your position is different than most people’s, after all.”
I frowned. “Because I’m a cop and I might die? Or because I’m a vampire and I’ll live for centuries?”
“Both.” My partner glanced down at the paperwork spread over the table. “You’re doing well, Jones. Your apartment is rent-controlled and you don’t have a lot of expenses. Your salary is enough to cover what you need and to put a little aside- three-to-six months’ living expenses is the advised amount to keep in your account, and you’ve got about five, not counting…”
“The life insurance money,” I finished. It was in a separate account, set up by my parents’ lawyer. “I didn’t want to use it when I didn’t have to, you know? I mean, I know that Mom and Dad were looking out for me, but they also raised me to be a responsible adult, and I want to earn my own way.”
Howell nodded seriously, completely passing up the chance to take a crack at my being a ‘responsible adult’.
“Then what about an endowment?” he said.
“A what?”
“An endowment. It’s like a trust fund for a place or an organization. The money accrues interest and the group uses that, and maybe sometimes some of the capitol, to do whatever you say they should do with it.”
“Really?” I asked. Now that he’d said that, I remembered that there was some kind of endowment at the Police Academy, to help fund new cops’ educations. “I think I’d like that.”
“Good,” said Howell. “Let’s do some research.”
I smiled. “Yes, sir.”
THE END
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