I win!
Yesterday omphale23 had the gall to bet that I could not write a gen snippet with the prompt "kinky." She might have had a point. Nevertheless, I did.
Title: Lieutenant Kinky
gen, G, 297 words
(Now also available as podfic.)
"This cord is all perverted!"
Welsh stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes for a moment, considering. After weighing the state of his ulcer against the good name of his squad, and bidding a fond farewell to the last of his stomach lining, he cleared his throat. Noisily.
As the last rumbles died away, Frannie glanced up from her desk, where she was trying to untangle a knot of telephone cord. Wrinkling her nose, she said, "You should be drinking tea with a throat like that. With lemon and honey, no milk. Ma says that dairy contributes to the forma..."
"You don't mean perverted."
"Pssht. Of course I mean perverted. I'm working on my vocabulary, see? Got these tapes. And, sure, it means sex stuff, but it also means 'tightly twisted and curled.'" She shook a fistful of tightly twisted and curled cord at him with a smug 'won that argument' expression.
"Miss Vecchio, while I am certainly no linguist, I have been speaking the English language significantly longer than you and can assure you that 'perverted' does not mean 'tightly twisted and curled.'"
A dismissive shrug was the only reply if you tuned out her words, which Welsh did as often as possible. Fortunately, the arrival of Vecchio and Constable Fraser saved him from having to set the woman straight.
As he retreated to his office, motioning for them to follow, his gut curdled at Frannie's shrill bellow, "Oh, oh, Lieutenant! Kinky! It was kinky! My mistake."
The not insignificant pleasure Welsh received from seeing the Constable pale three shades and visibly consider fleeing was considerably outweighed by his displeasure when he heard his new nickname. Fortunately, nobody else at the 2-7 was foolish enough to repeat Dewey's mistake.
*
Title: Lieutenant Kinky
gen, G, 297 words
(Now also available as podfic.)
"This cord is all perverted!"
Welsh stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes for a moment, considering. After weighing the state of his ulcer against the good name of his squad, and bidding a fond farewell to the last of his stomach lining, he cleared his throat. Noisily.
As the last rumbles died away, Frannie glanced up from her desk, where she was trying to untangle a knot of telephone cord. Wrinkling her nose, she said, "You should be drinking tea with a throat like that. With lemon and honey, no milk. Ma says that dairy contributes to the forma..."
"You don't mean perverted."
"Pssht. Of course I mean perverted. I'm working on my vocabulary, see? Got these tapes. And, sure, it means sex stuff, but it also means 'tightly twisted and curled.'" She shook a fistful of tightly twisted and curled cord at him with a smug 'won that argument' expression.
"Miss Vecchio, while I am certainly no linguist, I have been speaking the English language significantly longer than you and can assure you that 'perverted' does not mean 'tightly twisted and curled.'"
A dismissive shrug was the only reply if you tuned out her words, which Welsh did as often as possible. Fortunately, the arrival of Vecchio and Constable Fraser saved him from having to set the woman straight.
As he retreated to his office, motioning for them to follow, his gut curdled at Frannie's shrill bellow, "Oh, oh, Lieutenant! Kinky! It was kinky! My mistake."
The not insignificant pleasure Welsh received from seeing the Constable pale three shades and visibly consider fleeing was considerably outweighed by his displeasure when he heard his new nickname. Fortunately, nobody else at the 2-7 was foolish enough to repeat Dewey's mistake.
*