Superman (The Unusuals)
Title: Superman
Fandom: The Unusuals
Characters: Casey Shraeger, Jason Walsh and some random dude at a bar who doesn’t need a name
Prompt: #28 - Anti-Hero
Word Count: 247
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: Casey has a situation at a bar and Walsh comes to her rescue. Kind of.
Author’s Note: Walsh goes from Walsh to Jason for some reason. Also, he's kind of an ass in this.
prompt table and disclaimer
“So, what do you do?” the man sitting next to Casey at the bar asked her.
“I’m a cop,” she told him simply. It usually scares drunks away.
“Really?” he asked. He smiled and moved closer. “So you have handcuffs?”
She turned on her stool, facing the bar.
“Having trouble, babe?” Walsh asked as he walked over to her, he put one arm loosely around her shoulders.
She looked at him, then to his arm. “What?”
“Just play along,” he whispered, then offered his other hand to the guy next to her. “Hey, Jason Walsh.”
“Walsh? Didn’t you play for the Yankees?”
He nodded, gripping the other man’s hand tightly. “You weren’t bugging my girl, were you?”
“Ow,” he whimpered. “So you two are…”
Casey smiled and took Jason’s hand, which had fallen close to her chest. She moved their hands to her arm. “Going on a year.”
“Oh… that’s… nice.” He got off the stool and walked away from them, shaking his head.
“Get off me,” Casey demanded.
Jason moved his arm. “You looked like you needed some help.”
“I was fine.”
“Oh, I know. You’re big girl,” he said in a condescending voice.
She rolled her eyes. “And you’re an ass.”
He nodded and took a sip of her drink. “But I never denied it.” He sat down on the stool next to her. “Now, about those handcuffs.”
She took out her handcuffs and quickly locked his wrist to the bar. “Knock yourself out. Please.”
Fandom: The Unusuals
Characters: Casey Shraeger, Jason Walsh and some random dude at a bar who doesn’t need a name
Prompt: #28 - Anti-Hero
Word Count: 247
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: Casey has a situation at a bar and Walsh comes to her rescue. Kind of.
Author’s Note: Walsh goes from Walsh to Jason for some reason. Also, he's kind of an ass in this.
prompt table and disclaimer
“So, what do you do?” the man sitting next to Casey at the bar asked her.
“I’m a cop,” she told him simply. It usually scares drunks away.
“Really?” he asked. He smiled and moved closer. “So you have handcuffs?”
She turned on her stool, facing the bar.
“Having trouble, babe?” Walsh asked as he walked over to her, he put one arm loosely around her shoulders.
She looked at him, then to his arm. “What?”
“Just play along,” he whispered, then offered his other hand to the guy next to her. “Hey, Jason Walsh.”
“Walsh? Didn’t you play for the Yankees?”
He nodded, gripping the other man’s hand tightly. “You weren’t bugging my girl, were you?”
“Ow,” he whimpered. “So you two are…”
Casey smiled and took Jason’s hand, which had fallen close to her chest. She moved their hands to her arm. “Going on a year.”
“Oh… that’s… nice.” He got off the stool and walked away from them, shaking his head.
“Get off me,” Casey demanded.
Jason moved his arm. “You looked like you needed some help.”
“I was fine.”
“Oh, I know. You’re big girl,” he said in a condescending voice.
She rolled her eyes. “And you’re an ass.”
He nodded and took a sip of her drink. “But I never denied it.” He sat down on the stool next to her. “Now, about those handcuffs.”
She took out her handcuffs and quickly locked his wrist to the bar. “Knock yourself out. Please.”