SCC fic: Luxuries (pg-13)
Title: Luxuries
Author: sabaceanbabe
Rating: pg-13
Word count: 539
Characters: Reese and Sayles
Spoilers: erm, this far out from the s1 finale, are they any? It’s set more or less around the Premiere and Gnothi Seauton.
Summary: Derek, a towel, and beer (as prompted by ancarett)
Disclaimer: Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles belongs to Josh Friedman and FOX. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s note: Happy birthday, Ancarett! (Um, this is unbetaed...)
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Someone pounded at the safe house door. Again. Derek spit out toothpaste and shouted, “Is one of you idiots going to get that?” His only answer was more pounding, louder and more insistent.
He leaned down and rinsed his mouth out with cold water directly from the faucet, then snagged the damp towel he’d hung on the rack after his shower, wrapping it around his hips. Clean clothes were such a luxury that he’d forgotten them in his bedroom.
More than a little ticked at having his relaxing clean time interrupted, he grabbed his Glock off the toilet tank, jerked the bathroom door open, and stalked to the front door. Sumner and Timms had been watching a college football game on the television when Derek had gone to get cleaned up after a long and boring day of surveillance, but no one was around now.
Standing to the side of the door, gun in hand and back to the wall, he shouted, “What do you want?” as he switched off the Glock’s safety.
“Reese, man, open the door. I forgot my key.”
“Fuckin’ Sayles,” Derek muttered and flicked the safety back on. Louder, he said, “I ought to just leave your ass out there.”
“C’mon, Derek, this stuff is heavy.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Password.” If whatever Sayles had was that heavy, he could put it down.
“Are you serious?”
Derek didn’t answer, and after it became apparent that he wasn’t going to, nor was he going to open the door, he heard what sounded like Sayles banging his head on the door. Derek grinned.
Sayles muttered the password. Or rather the phrase they’d all agreed on, some under protest, when they’d arrived at the safe house.
“What was that, Sayles? I couldn’t hear you.” Derek’s grin widened into a smile as he tried to keep from laughing out loud. Sayles, of course, was the one who’d protested and the main reason the other three had insisted on the phrase.
Another thump of forehead on door, then, clearly and deliberately enunciated, “Hello Kitty owns my soul.” When they had checked out the Century City Mall, after seeing a t-shirt in one of the stores, poor Sayles had made the mistake of telling them all about how his big sister and her friends had dressed him up as Hello Kitty one Halloween. Dumbass should’ve known better.
Derek opened the door, laughing; Sayles glared and picked up his heavy burden.
“What the hell is that?” Derek asked, stepping back from the door.
“Why are you wearing a towel?” Sayles countered.
“You went out to get groceries and you come back with beer?” Derek turned around, shaking his head again, and headed to his room to get dressed.
“You gotta have priorities, man.”
As Derek pulled on underwear and jeans, he heard the refrigerator door open and the clank of bottles being stacked. Pulling a t-shirt over his head - not a Hello Kitty t-shirt - Derek headed into the little kitchen just as Sayles popped the top off a beer and offered it to him.
Accepting it, the bottle cold in his hand, apparently straight from the store’s refrigerated section, he could almost pretend that everything was going to be okay.
Almost.
~fin
Author: sabaceanbabe
Rating: pg-13
Word count: 539
Characters: Reese and Sayles
Spoilers: erm, this far out from the s1 finale, are they any? It’s set more or less around the Premiere and Gnothi Seauton.
Summary: Derek, a towel, and beer (as prompted by ancarett)
Disclaimer: Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles belongs to Josh Friedman and FOX. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s note: Happy birthday, Ancarett! (Um, this is unbetaed...)
-----------------------------------
Someone pounded at the safe house door. Again. Derek spit out toothpaste and shouted, “Is one of you idiots going to get that?” His only answer was more pounding, louder and more insistent.
He leaned down and rinsed his mouth out with cold water directly from the faucet, then snagged the damp towel he’d hung on the rack after his shower, wrapping it around his hips. Clean clothes were such a luxury that he’d forgotten them in his bedroom.
More than a little ticked at having his relaxing clean time interrupted, he grabbed his Glock off the toilet tank, jerked the bathroom door open, and stalked to the front door. Sumner and Timms had been watching a college football game on the television when Derek had gone to get cleaned up after a long and boring day of surveillance, but no one was around now.
Standing to the side of the door, gun in hand and back to the wall, he shouted, “What do you want?” as he switched off the Glock’s safety.
“Reese, man, open the door. I forgot my key.”
“Fuckin’ Sayles,” Derek muttered and flicked the safety back on. Louder, he said, “I ought to just leave your ass out there.”
“C’mon, Derek, this stuff is heavy.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Password.” If whatever Sayles had was that heavy, he could put it down.
“Are you serious?”
Derek didn’t answer, and after it became apparent that he wasn’t going to, nor was he going to open the door, he heard what sounded like Sayles banging his head on the door. Derek grinned.
Sayles muttered the password. Or rather the phrase they’d all agreed on, some under protest, when they’d arrived at the safe house.
“What was that, Sayles? I couldn’t hear you.” Derek’s grin widened into a smile as he tried to keep from laughing out loud. Sayles, of course, was the one who’d protested and the main reason the other three had insisted on the phrase.
Another thump of forehead on door, then, clearly and deliberately enunciated, “Hello Kitty owns my soul.” When they had checked out the Century City Mall, after seeing a t-shirt in one of the stores, poor Sayles had made the mistake of telling them all about how his big sister and her friends had dressed him up as Hello Kitty one Halloween. Dumbass should’ve known better.
Derek opened the door, laughing; Sayles glared and picked up his heavy burden.
“What the hell is that?” Derek asked, stepping back from the door.
“Why are you wearing a towel?” Sayles countered.
“You went out to get groceries and you come back with beer?” Derek turned around, shaking his head again, and headed to his room to get dressed.
“You gotta have priorities, man.”
As Derek pulled on underwear and jeans, he heard the refrigerator door open and the clank of bottles being stacked. Pulling a t-shirt over his head - not a Hello Kitty t-shirt - Derek headed into the little kitchen just as Sayles popped the top off a beer and offered it to him.
Accepting it, the bottle cold in his hand, apparently straight from the store’s refrigerated section, he could almost pretend that everything was going to be okay.
Almost.
~fin