A Burning Question
Wow, this ficlet resonates rather remarkably with ladyofthethread's last post. Synchronicity, man!
Title: A Burning Question
Author: Rex Luscus
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Summary: These are the unofficial results of a discussion that took place on my journal the other day. See if you agree.
He knew he was taking his life in his hands, but he was going to go crazy if he didn't find out, and he'd never have a better opportunity. Checking frequently over his shoulder, he ransacked the bureaus first and then the wardrobes. He found a lot of things he hadn't been looking for but wasn't going to turn down--some lacy, gauzy little slips, for instance, and a whole cache of silk stockings (whoa, hot. He pocketed one). Then he turned up several pairs of long, filmy gloves that felt like water in his hands, and--Jesus Christ, was that a garter belt? So much for getting any sleep that night.
Just as he was beginning to despair, a throat cleared delicately behind him, and he knew he was dead.
"Detective. Explain yourself."
He turned slowly. What was the use of lying when your hand was in the cookie jar? He said in a small voice, "I just--really wanted to know."
"Know what, exactly?"
"Um. Whatkindofunderwearyouwear."
"Underwear?" D frowned. Then shrugged. "I've never seen the point of it, personally. Now, would you kindly remove yourself..."
Leon didn't hear a single word spoken to him for the rest of the day.
*
Title: A Burning Question
Author: Rex Luscus
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Summary: These are the unofficial results of a discussion that took place on my journal the other day. See if you agree.
He knew he was taking his life in his hands, but he was going to go crazy if he didn't find out, and he'd never have a better opportunity. Checking frequently over his shoulder, he ransacked the bureaus first and then the wardrobes. He found a lot of things he hadn't been looking for but wasn't going to turn down--some lacy, gauzy little slips, for instance, and a whole cache of silk stockings (whoa, hot. He pocketed one). Then he turned up several pairs of long, filmy gloves that felt like water in his hands, and--Jesus Christ, was that a garter belt? So much for getting any sleep that night.
Just as he was beginning to despair, a throat cleared delicately behind him, and he knew he was dead.
"Detective. Explain yourself."
He turned slowly. What was the use of lying when your hand was in the cookie jar? He said in a small voice, "I just--really wanted to know."
"Know what, exactly?"
"Um. Whatkindofunderwearyouwear."
"Underwear?" D frowned. Then shrugged. "I've never seen the point of it, personally. Now, would you kindly remove yourself..."
Leon didn't hear a single word spoken to him for the rest of the day.
*