[Original: Drabble] "Domestic" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: Domestic
Prompt: writerverse challenge #02 september mini table of doom
Book Title Used: Heartless (Parasol Protectorate #4, by Gail Carriger)
Word Count: 413
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Jones and Howell respond to a disturbance report.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Domestic
When Howell and I rolled up to the apartment building, the man standing on the curb as clothing rained down from an upstairs window gave us a pretty good indication of the type of ‘disturbance’ we’d been called to investigate.
“Can’t believe you!” shouted a woman’s voice, presumably the clothing-thrower.
“Baby, you know I didn’t!” the man yelled back.
“What seems to be the trouble here?” I asked, as we got out of the squad car.
Howell was the senior officer, but he preferred to let me take the lead in cases like this one, that weren’t obviously dangerous or violent. Being female and young-looking, people didn’t automatically register me as a threat or ‘The Man’, despite my uniform, and we had a reassuringly small number of these incidents escalate to actual violence.
“Bastard cheated on me!” the woman yelled.
“Baby, I didn’t!” cried the man.
I looked at my partner. “I’ll take her, you take him?” Howell nodded, and I said, “Ma’am, may I come in?”
“You, sure,” she said, and I hurried through the open front door and up the staircase. She was easy to find, pulling more clothes out of the closet of a clearly-shared room.
“Ma’am-” I said, then paused. “What’s your name?”
“Kendra.”
“Right. Kendra, what makes you think he was cheating?”
Like I hoped, she stopped throwing clothes. “What else am I supposed to think? He says he’s working late, but he comes home wearing different clothes, showered, exhausted-”
“Where does he work?” I interrupted.
“Sanitation Department,” said Kendra.
“Well, there’s your answer,” I said. “He has been working late. I know for a fact that the Sanitation Department has everyone working overtime, what with getting ready for the pope to come and all. And your guy looks pretty heartbroken down there. You might consider giving him another chance.”
Kendra’s expression softened. “He kisses me goodbye every day,” she said. “I should… that’s not something to give up.”
“Nope,” I agreed.
I followed her downstairs, and her boyfriend looked up, hopeful. “Baby?”
She smiled. “We should talk.”
He grinned. “Yes, we should- Officers?”
“We’ll let you off with a warning,” said Howell. “Next time, keep your arguments to a more acceptable level, all right?”
Both of them nodded, and we turned back to our squad car.
“You gave him a pep talk, too, didn’t you, sir?” I asked.
Howell didn’t say anything, and I grinned, grabbing the radio to let Dispatch know we were available.
THE END
Current Mood:
cold
Prompt: writerverse challenge #02 september mini table of doom
Book Title Used: Heartless (Parasol Protectorate #4, by Gail Carriger)
Word Count: 413
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: Jones and Howell respond to a disturbance report.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Domestic
When Howell and I rolled up to the apartment building, the man standing on the curb as clothing rained down from an upstairs window gave us a pretty good indication of the type of ‘disturbance’ we’d been called to investigate.
“Can’t believe you!” shouted a woman’s voice, presumably the clothing-thrower.
“Baby, you know I didn’t!” the man yelled back.
“What seems to be the trouble here?” I asked, as we got out of the squad car.
Howell was the senior officer, but he preferred to let me take the lead in cases like this one, that weren’t obviously dangerous or violent. Being female and young-looking, people didn’t automatically register me as a threat or ‘The Man’, despite my uniform, and we had a reassuringly small number of these incidents escalate to actual violence.
“Bastard cheated on me!” the woman yelled.
“Baby, I didn’t!” cried the man.
I looked at my partner. “I’ll take her, you take him?” Howell nodded, and I said, “Ma’am, may I come in?”
“You, sure,” she said, and I hurried through the open front door and up the staircase. She was easy to find, pulling more clothes out of the closet of a clearly-shared room.
“Ma’am-” I said, then paused. “What’s your name?”
“Kendra.”
“Right. Kendra, what makes you think he was cheating?”
Like I hoped, she stopped throwing clothes. “What else am I supposed to think? He says he’s working late, but he comes home wearing different clothes, showered, exhausted-”
“Where does he work?” I interrupted.
“Sanitation Department,” said Kendra.
“Well, there’s your answer,” I said. “He has been working late. I know for a fact that the Sanitation Department has everyone working overtime, what with getting ready for the pope to come and all. And your guy looks pretty heartbroken down there. You might consider giving him another chance.”
Kendra’s expression softened. “He kisses me goodbye every day,” she said. “I should… that’s not something to give up.”
“Nope,” I agreed.
I followed her downstairs, and her boyfriend looked up, hopeful. “Baby?”
She smiled. “We should talk.”
He grinned. “Yes, we should- Officers?”
“We’ll let you off with a warning,” said Howell. “Next time, keep your arguments to a more acceptable level, all right?”
Both of them nodded, and we turned back to our squad car.
“You gave him a pep talk, too, didn’t you, sir?” I asked.
Howell didn’t say anything, and I grinned, grabbing the radio to let Dispatch know we were available.
THE END
Current Mood:
cold