FAKE Fic: A Hearty Breakfast
Title: A Hearty Breakfast
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee.
Rating: G
Setting: Early in the manga.
Summary: Dee’s plans for cooking himself a hearty breakfast go a bit awry.
Word Count: 703
Content Notes: None needed.
Written For: Challenge 207: Amnesty at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 13: Breakfast.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Breakfast, the most important meal of the day! Dee had woken up ravenous, having been too tired the previous night to do anything except fall into bed. Working back-to-back shifts was a bitch, but thankfully now he didn’t have to be back at work until midnight! He could have a good meal, then go back to sleep again for a few hours; that was just the kind of lazy day he needed.
Entering his kitchen he made a beeline for the refrigerator; bacon, eggs, and toast, that should hit the spot, he thought, pulling the door open. Then he remembered; he’d used all of the eggs the day before, because the bacon had been way out of date and he’d binned it. Damn!
Okay, he could still have toast. He pulled the bread out and looked at it; the green patches were clearly visible even through the plastic bag. That didn’t bode well. Cereal it was then; not the hearty breakfast he’d planned, but better than nothing. He reached into the cupboard and pulled out the box, opened it, and frowned. Where’d all the cereal go? There was maybe half a cupful left; barely more than a couple of mouthfuls. Still, he tipped it into a dish, added milk, shoved a spoonful in his mouth, and spat it back out again. The milk was off.
Sighing heavily, he tipped his breakfast in the bin, poured the milk down the sink, and went to shower. So much for his lazy day off, he needed to buy groceries before he starved to death. Work had been so busy lately he hadn’t had time for even basic chores.
Showered and dressed, he grabbed his hastily written shopping list, keys, billfold, and phone, then took a load of laundry down to the basement utilities room, shoved it in an empty machine, and set it going. It would be done by the time he got back with the groceries.
Pulling into the supermarket parking lot, he got out of his car, slammed the door, and sniffed the air; he could smell coffee and waffles. His stomach growled loudly, protesting the lack of food, and he made a snap decision; grocery shopping could wait while he treated himself to breakfast out. Following his nose, he traced the source of the delicious aromas to Anita’s Diner. He’d passed the place countless times, and yet never been inside. Not until now.
Pushing open the door to the diner, he inhaled deeply as he looked around for a seat, his mouth watering; everything smelled so good. All the tables and booths were packed, but there were two vacant stools at the counter. So much the better; sitting there would put him closer to the kitchen, where the food lived. Sliding onto a stool, he picked up a menu, skimming through the options before ordering bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and a mug of black coffee.
The coffee was put in front of him almost immediately, steaming hot and rich; this was real coffee, not instant. The food took a little longer, but proved well worth the wait. He dug in hungrily, discovering that it tasted every bit as good as it smelled. Pushing his empty plate away at last, he finished his coffee before deciding that as he’d skipped dinner the previous night, he still had plenty of room for a second course. That settled, he ordered another coffee and a plate of waffles; after all, he’d need his strength for carrying the groceries.
Sitting there sipping coffee, flipping through a paper someone had left behind, and munching on perfectly cooked waffles drenched in Maple syrup he wondered if maybe running out of food at home had been a blessing in disguise. This was a far better breakfast than he would have cooked for himself, and more than that, these were hands down the best waffles he’d ever tasted. Scraping his plate clean, he leaned one elbow on the counter while he drank the last of his second coffee. He really would have to tell Ryo about this place; maybe they could stop by for breakfast when they got off shift in the morning. He might even be willing to pay!
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee.
Rating: G
Setting: Early in the manga.
Summary: Dee’s plans for cooking himself a hearty breakfast go a bit awry.
Word Count: 703
Content Notes: None needed.
Written For: Challenge 207: Amnesty at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 13: Breakfast.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Breakfast, the most important meal of the day! Dee had woken up ravenous, having been too tired the previous night to do anything except fall into bed. Working back-to-back shifts was a bitch, but thankfully now he didn’t have to be back at work until midnight! He could have a good meal, then go back to sleep again for a few hours; that was just the kind of lazy day he needed.
Entering his kitchen he made a beeline for the refrigerator; bacon, eggs, and toast, that should hit the spot, he thought, pulling the door open. Then he remembered; he’d used all of the eggs the day before, because the bacon had been way out of date and he’d binned it. Damn!
Okay, he could still have toast. He pulled the bread out and looked at it; the green patches were clearly visible even through the plastic bag. That didn’t bode well. Cereal it was then; not the hearty breakfast he’d planned, but better than nothing. He reached into the cupboard and pulled out the box, opened it, and frowned. Where’d all the cereal go? There was maybe half a cupful left; barely more than a couple of mouthfuls. Still, he tipped it into a dish, added milk, shoved a spoonful in his mouth, and spat it back out again. The milk was off.
Sighing heavily, he tipped his breakfast in the bin, poured the milk down the sink, and went to shower. So much for his lazy day off, he needed to buy groceries before he starved to death. Work had been so busy lately he hadn’t had time for even basic chores.
Showered and dressed, he grabbed his hastily written shopping list, keys, billfold, and phone, then took a load of laundry down to the basement utilities room, shoved it in an empty machine, and set it going. It would be done by the time he got back with the groceries.
Pulling into the supermarket parking lot, he got out of his car, slammed the door, and sniffed the air; he could smell coffee and waffles. His stomach growled loudly, protesting the lack of food, and he made a snap decision; grocery shopping could wait while he treated himself to breakfast out. Following his nose, he traced the source of the delicious aromas to Anita’s Diner. He’d passed the place countless times, and yet never been inside. Not until now.
Pushing open the door to the diner, he inhaled deeply as he looked around for a seat, his mouth watering; everything smelled so good. All the tables and booths were packed, but there were two vacant stools at the counter. So much the better; sitting there would put him closer to the kitchen, where the food lived. Sliding onto a stool, he picked up a menu, skimming through the options before ordering bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and a mug of black coffee.
The coffee was put in front of him almost immediately, steaming hot and rich; this was real coffee, not instant. The food took a little longer, but proved well worth the wait. He dug in hungrily, discovering that it tasted every bit as good as it smelled. Pushing his empty plate away at last, he finished his coffee before deciding that as he’d skipped dinner the previous night, he still had plenty of room for a second course. That settled, he ordered another coffee and a plate of waffles; after all, he’d need his strength for carrying the groceries.
Sitting there sipping coffee, flipping through a paper someone had left behind, and munching on perfectly cooked waffles drenched in Maple syrup he wondered if maybe running out of food at home had been a blessing in disguise. This was a far better breakfast than he would have cooked for himself, and more than that, these were hands down the best waffles he’d ever tasted. Scraping his plate clean, he leaned one elbow on the counter while he drank the last of his second coffee. He really would have to tell Ryo about this place; maybe they could stop by for breakfast when they got off shift in the morning. He might even be willing to pay!
The End