[Original: Drabble] "Recessive" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: Recessive
Prompt: writerverse challenge #16 july table, prompt #09 ‘mutation’
Word Count: 333
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: The officers of Zeke and Howell’s precinct compare school photos.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Recessive
“Huh,” said Sergeant Westen, of the fifteenth precinct, when he saw my second grade school picture.
There had been a bet, and we had lost- the fifteenth had caught the gang responsible for a string of fast food robberies and we were each obligated to bring in a picture of ourselves before the age of ten. Only Howell was exempt, as they had invented school pictures until long after he’d graduated and joined the police force.
“Huh,” Westen said again, looking at the picture, then back up at me.
“What?” I asked.
Really, my picture was the least embarrassing of the ones I’d seen- Wu had braces at nine, Orlov had an unfortunate bowl haircut, and Klausen was wearing a sweater that only an elderly aunt could have knitted- but if I wore my hair in braids, I’d look nearly identical to how I had at age eight.
Westen looked up again, then turned slightly pink. “Sorry, Jones. It’s, really it’s none of my business.”
“No, you’ve got me curious,” I said, smiling.
He smiled back. “I guess I didn’t realize you’d always been a redhead. I thought it had something to do with…”
Westen trailed off, uncomfortable as most people were with talking about supernatural conditions, like my vampirism, in public, but I smiled again.
“Nah, the red hair is completely original. It’s a recessive trait, you know. My parents were both brunet, but I ended up a redhead. It’s a fascinating mutation, really, because-” I broke off, laughing. “Sorry. It’s just, that was pretty much my one defining feature until, you know. So, I know a lot about it.”
“Do you mind another question, then?” asked Lieutenant Waters, who had sported an impressive set of small braids, capped with bright plastic clips, in her youth. “Do redheads really need more anesthesia than other people?”
“Very true,” said Howell, before I could answer. “Especially if they’re as stubborn as Jones.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, sir,” I said.
THE END
Current Mood:
tired
Prompt: writerverse challenge #16 july table, prompt #09 ‘mutation’
Word Count: 333
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: The officers of Zeke and Howell’s precinct compare school photos.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Recessive
“Huh,” said Sergeant Westen, of the fifteenth precinct, when he saw my second grade school picture.
There had been a bet, and we had lost- the fifteenth had caught the gang responsible for a string of fast food robberies and we were each obligated to bring in a picture of ourselves before the age of ten. Only Howell was exempt, as they had invented school pictures until long after he’d graduated and joined the police force.
“Huh,” Westen said again, looking at the picture, then back up at me.
“What?” I asked.
Really, my picture was the least embarrassing of the ones I’d seen- Wu had braces at nine, Orlov had an unfortunate bowl haircut, and Klausen was wearing a sweater that only an elderly aunt could have knitted- but if I wore my hair in braids, I’d look nearly identical to how I had at age eight.
Westen looked up again, then turned slightly pink. “Sorry, Jones. It’s, really it’s none of my business.”
“No, you’ve got me curious,” I said, smiling.
He smiled back. “I guess I didn’t realize you’d always been a redhead. I thought it had something to do with…”
Westen trailed off, uncomfortable as most people were with talking about supernatural conditions, like my vampirism, in public, but I smiled again.
“Nah, the red hair is completely original. It’s a recessive trait, you know. My parents were both brunet, but I ended up a redhead. It’s a fascinating mutation, really, because-” I broke off, laughing. “Sorry. It’s just, that was pretty much my one defining feature until, you know. So, I know a lot about it.”
“Do you mind another question, then?” asked Lieutenant Waters, who had sported an impressive set of small braids, capped with bright plastic clips, in her youth. “Do redheads really need more anesthesia than other people?”
“Very true,” said Howell, before I could answer. “Especially if they’re as stubborn as Jones.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, sir,” I said.
THE END
Current Mood:
tired