Dark!!Laundry!!fic!!! Now with even more exclamation points!!!!
A new installment, and it took less than a year! lost_spook, I remain indebted to you, especially for reminding me of my promise.
Part 1 is here, part 2 is here, part 3 is here, and part 4 is here.
The background is here.
Part 5
the great unwashed
“Ack!”
MacGyver pawed uselessly at his chest as the lukewarm liquid started to soak in. He could smell what it was clearly enough, although where the guy had found tea - ordinary tea, not green tea - in a laundry in the middle of Chinatown was a mystery.
The Tea Guy was clucking in embarrassed alarm, and had snatched up a random towel to try to mop up the mess. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry, so terribly sorry, that was terribly careless of me!” Another surprise: the voice was cultured and polished, with a well-bred English accent. The guy had fox-red hair and fox-sharp eyes and nose. A sharp dresser, too: the neat pinstriped shirt and tie would have made Mac feel grubby even without the fresh stains on his t-shirt.
“Hey, it’s okay. No harm done.” Mac fended off another dab with the towel. As the cloying dampness spread, he gave a mental shrug - heck, at least I’m already doing my laundry - and peeled the shirt off. Over beyond the counter, he heard a stifled giggle and squeal, followed by a staccato chatter of Chinese. He glanced over, feeling his neck beginning to redden, and saw the pretty girl had reappeared and was staring at him. Great. Just great. Beside her, the grandmother was delivering a rapid-fire torrent, incomprehensible but emphatic - probably a lecture on the unsuitability of American men who couldn’t keep their clothes clean even in a laundromat.
“I really am so sorry about all this,” the Tea Guy was still saying. “I’d offer to have it washed, but that seems a trifle meagre. Or I could offer to get you some tea or coffee or something - ”
Mac shifted the damp t-shirt to his left hand so he could proffer his right. “Naw, thanks, I just had some.” He smiled. “Name’s MacGyver.”
“Colin Davis.” The handshake was brisk and firm.
“Nice to meetcha, Colin. You’re not from around here, I take it?”
Colin quirked an eyebrow. “Well, neither are you. So to speak.”
Mac grinned. “Yeah, that’s true.” He wadded up the damp t-shirt and tossed it towards the half-sorted piles of clothes in front of his washing machines, remembered he still needed detergent, and turned back towards the vending machines.
“You’re out of luck there,” Colin said. “The dispenser thingummy’s broken.”
“Is it?” Mac felt a sudden spark of hope. He usually got good results when he offered to fix broken stuff, after all. At least the collision with Colin had brought the old woman back out to where he might be able to start negotiations.
He hurried over to take a look, and his heart sank again. The coin-operated dispenser for the detergent, bleach, laundry booster and fabric softener wasn’t just broken: it had been broken open and was empty, the enameled aluminum lid dangling by one busted hinge to show the empty slot for the soap packets. Fixing it wouldn’t get him anywhere.
“Dang.”
Poll
ETA: Part 6 is now online here.
Part 1 is here, part 2 is here, part 3 is here, and part 4 is here.
The background is here.
Part 5
the great unwashed
“Ack!”
MacGyver pawed uselessly at his chest as the lukewarm liquid started to soak in. He could smell what it was clearly enough, although where the guy had found tea - ordinary tea, not green tea - in a laundry in the middle of Chinatown was a mystery.
The Tea Guy was clucking in embarrassed alarm, and had snatched up a random towel to try to mop up the mess. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry, so terribly sorry, that was terribly careless of me!” Another surprise: the voice was cultured and polished, with a well-bred English accent. The guy had fox-red hair and fox-sharp eyes and nose. A sharp dresser, too: the neat pinstriped shirt and tie would have made Mac feel grubby even without the fresh stains on his t-shirt.
“Hey, it’s okay. No harm done.” Mac fended off another dab with the towel. As the cloying dampness spread, he gave a mental shrug - heck, at least I’m already doing my laundry - and peeled the shirt off. Over beyond the counter, he heard a stifled giggle and squeal, followed by a staccato chatter of Chinese. He glanced over, feeling his neck beginning to redden, and saw the pretty girl had reappeared and was staring at him. Great. Just great. Beside her, the grandmother was delivering a rapid-fire torrent, incomprehensible but emphatic - probably a lecture on the unsuitability of American men who couldn’t keep their clothes clean even in a laundromat.
“I really am so sorry about all this,” the Tea Guy was still saying. “I’d offer to have it washed, but that seems a trifle meagre. Or I could offer to get you some tea or coffee or something - ”
Mac shifted the damp t-shirt to his left hand so he could proffer his right. “Naw, thanks, I just had some.” He smiled. “Name’s MacGyver.”
“Colin Davis.” The handshake was brisk and firm.
“Nice to meetcha, Colin. You’re not from around here, I take it?”
Colin quirked an eyebrow. “Well, neither are you. So to speak.”
Mac grinned. “Yeah, that’s true.” He wadded up the damp t-shirt and tossed it towards the half-sorted piles of clothes in front of his washing machines, remembered he still needed detergent, and turned back towards the vending machines.
“You’re out of luck there,” Colin said. “The dispenser thingummy’s broken.”
“Is it?” Mac felt a sudden spark of hope. He usually got good results when he offered to fix broken stuff, after all. At least the collision with Colin had brought the old woman back out to where he might be able to start negotiations.
He hurried over to take a look, and his heart sank again. The coin-operated dispenser for the detergent, bleach, laundry booster and fabric softener wasn’t just broken: it had been broken open and was empty, the enameled aluminum lid dangling by one busted hinge to show the empty slot for the soap packets. Fixing it wouldn’t get him anywhere.
“Dang.”
Poll
ETA: Part 6 is now online here.