FAKE Fic: Being Somebody Else
Title: Being Somebody Else
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee, Ryo, OCs
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Undercover assignments are part of being a cop, but sometimes being somebody else for a while isn’t so bad.
Word Count: 852
Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, Dee/Ryo, Undercover as a cab driver,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Dee wasn’t at all sure about the undercover assignment he’d just been handed.
“A cap driver? Seriously?”
“It’s the best way to catch this guy, Detective,” Sergeant Miller, leader of the task force, explained. “We know he’s targeting independent cabs, luring the drivers to remote areas, killing them, and using their vehicles as transport to and from the places he’s robbing. Nobody looks twice at a taxi going about its business, especially since it’s never the same one twice. You’ll need these.” He handed Dee a full set of ID cards, a key ring, and a sheet of paper. “You’re Miguel Sanchez. Memorise this address, that’s where you’ll be living. You’ll find your cab parked outside your new home. It’s fully wired, microphones, hidden cameras, GPS, the lot. Everything you hear and see your backup will know too. You’d better get settled in and start establishing your credentials.”
“You mean drivin’ people around the city and pickin’ up fares,” Dee grumbled.
“Exactly.”
Shaking his head, Dee scooped everything up and slouched out of the office. “Miguel,” he muttered, pulling a face. “Hey, Ryo, do I look like a Miguel to you?” he asked his partner, who would be part of the backup team keeping track of Dee’s movements around the city and following in one of several unmarked vehicles.
Ryo considered the question. “Not really,” he admitted.
“Mike,” Dee decided. “I’ll have people call me Mike. Y’know, sometimes I wonder what my birth parents might’ve called me, if they’d ever taken the time to give me a name.”
“You might’ve been stuck with a really awful name.”
“Yeah, that’s true, I could be Horace, or Marvin, or… God, I could have wound up as a Percy!”
Laughing, the two headed towards the exit. Ryo was going to drop Dee at his new place and would stop by occasionally, playing the role of Miguel’s friend.
This wasn’t Dee’s first undercover assignment, he was used to playing a role, being somebody else, although usually he at least got to use his own first name. The apartment ‘Miguel’ lived in was small, one room with a kitchen alcove, a poky bedroom off to one side, and an even smaller bathroom. His character wore jeans, sneakers, and t-shirts with a shirt over the top. It was cold out, so a warm jacket, gloves, and a stocking cap finished the outfit.
Ferrying people around turned out not to be such a bad job, most of the time. He chatted to passengers, old and young, flirted a bit with the occasional attractive single, and kept in touch with Ryo and Marty, who were his contacts on his two backup teams. He was working mostly at night, from about seven in the evening until three or four in the morning, sometimes later, and by the end of the first week he had a pretty good routine going with his new life.
Two or three times a week, he and Ryo met up during his off hours for a coffee, and once a week they went to the movies. It was east for them to play the part of buddies hanging out together, since they did the same in their regular lives. The worst part of working nights for an extended period, in mid-winter especially, was that he was missing out on sunlight because he was sleeping during the day.
Dee wasn’t the only undercover cabbie; the task force was running two more in other areas of the city, and in the end, ‘Miguel’ wasn’t even the one who got hailed by the thief and murderer. One of the other teams caught him, but Dee didn’t care because his time as a cabbie certainly hadn’t been uneventful. During his month-long undercover assignment, he’d ferried two hen parties around, taken several bingo-loving old ladies home from a successful night out, getting a very generous tip in the process, driven an elderly man home from visiting his wife in the hospital every evening for three weeks, listening to stories of their long life together, and even had a baby delivered in the back seat of his cab.
“Y’know,” he told Ryo as he flopped onto the sofa at his partner’s apartment for the first time in what felt like forever, “bein’ a cab driver isn’t so bad. At least if I get kicked off the force I have an alternative career to fall back on, and I did really well on tips.”
Ryo joined him on the sofa, handing him a mug of coffee. “Don’t hang up your badge and gun just yet though. I’ll be glad to get back to working more regular hours.”
“Me too, I’ve missed daylight. I don’t mind an occasional night shift, but seven nights a week, every week, is a bit much. I was starting to forget what the sun looked like.” He looked out the window at the clear, ice blue winter sky, and the brightly shining sun, then back at Ryo. “It feels good to be me again; especially since now nobody’s listening in, I can do this.” Setting his coffee aside, he pounced.
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee, Ryo, OCs
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Undercover assignments are part of being a cop, but sometimes being somebody else for a while isn’t so bad.
Word Count: 852
Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, Dee/Ryo, Undercover as a cab driver,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Dee wasn’t at all sure about the undercover assignment he’d just been handed.
“A cap driver? Seriously?”
“It’s the best way to catch this guy, Detective,” Sergeant Miller, leader of the task force, explained. “We know he’s targeting independent cabs, luring the drivers to remote areas, killing them, and using their vehicles as transport to and from the places he’s robbing. Nobody looks twice at a taxi going about its business, especially since it’s never the same one twice. You’ll need these.” He handed Dee a full set of ID cards, a key ring, and a sheet of paper. “You’re Miguel Sanchez. Memorise this address, that’s where you’ll be living. You’ll find your cab parked outside your new home. It’s fully wired, microphones, hidden cameras, GPS, the lot. Everything you hear and see your backup will know too. You’d better get settled in and start establishing your credentials.”
“You mean drivin’ people around the city and pickin’ up fares,” Dee grumbled.
“Exactly.”
Shaking his head, Dee scooped everything up and slouched out of the office. “Miguel,” he muttered, pulling a face. “Hey, Ryo, do I look like a Miguel to you?” he asked his partner, who would be part of the backup team keeping track of Dee’s movements around the city and following in one of several unmarked vehicles.
Ryo considered the question. “Not really,” he admitted.
“Mike,” Dee decided. “I’ll have people call me Mike. Y’know, sometimes I wonder what my birth parents might’ve called me, if they’d ever taken the time to give me a name.”
“You might’ve been stuck with a really awful name.”
“Yeah, that’s true, I could be Horace, or Marvin, or… God, I could have wound up as a Percy!”
Laughing, the two headed towards the exit. Ryo was going to drop Dee at his new place and would stop by occasionally, playing the role of Miguel’s friend.
This wasn’t Dee’s first undercover assignment, he was used to playing a role, being somebody else, although usually he at least got to use his own first name. The apartment ‘Miguel’ lived in was small, one room with a kitchen alcove, a poky bedroom off to one side, and an even smaller bathroom. His character wore jeans, sneakers, and t-shirts with a shirt over the top. It was cold out, so a warm jacket, gloves, and a stocking cap finished the outfit.
Ferrying people around turned out not to be such a bad job, most of the time. He chatted to passengers, old and young, flirted a bit with the occasional attractive single, and kept in touch with Ryo and Marty, who were his contacts on his two backup teams. He was working mostly at night, from about seven in the evening until three or four in the morning, sometimes later, and by the end of the first week he had a pretty good routine going with his new life.
Two or three times a week, he and Ryo met up during his off hours for a coffee, and once a week they went to the movies. It was east for them to play the part of buddies hanging out together, since they did the same in their regular lives. The worst part of working nights for an extended period, in mid-winter especially, was that he was missing out on sunlight because he was sleeping during the day.
Dee wasn’t the only undercover cabbie; the task force was running two more in other areas of the city, and in the end, ‘Miguel’ wasn’t even the one who got hailed by the thief and murderer. One of the other teams caught him, but Dee didn’t care because his time as a cabbie certainly hadn’t been uneventful. During his month-long undercover assignment, he’d ferried two hen parties around, taken several bingo-loving old ladies home from a successful night out, getting a very generous tip in the process, driven an elderly man home from visiting his wife in the hospital every evening for three weeks, listening to stories of their long life together, and even had a baby delivered in the back seat of his cab.
“Y’know,” he told Ryo as he flopped onto the sofa at his partner’s apartment for the first time in what felt like forever, “bein’ a cab driver isn’t so bad. At least if I get kicked off the force I have an alternative career to fall back on, and I did really well on tips.”
Ryo joined him on the sofa, handing him a mug of coffee. “Don’t hang up your badge and gun just yet though. I’ll be glad to get back to working more regular hours.”
“Me too, I’ve missed daylight. I don’t mind an occasional night shift, but seven nights a week, every week, is a bit much. I was starting to forget what the sun looked like.” He looked out the window at the clear, ice blue winter sky, and the brightly shining sun, then back at Ryo. “It feels good to be me again; especially since now nobody’s listening in, I can do this.” Setting his coffee aside, he pounced.
The End