Characters: Dee, Ryo
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Dee has suffered a painful work-related injury, but Ryo is being less than sympathetic.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 502: Amnesty at slashthedrabble, using Prompt 42: It Hurts.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Dee knew going in that police work could be dangerous, but it hadn’t put him off. He wasn’t a wimp; he could handle anything the criminals of New York could throw at him. But now he was injured and in pain, and not feeling at all happy.
“Ow! It hurts!” he groaned.
“You’re such a big baby sometimes,” Ryo said, shaking his head. “You’ve broken your leg, been shot, stabbed, beaten to a pulp, and you’ve taken it all in stride, but here you are complaining about something as trivial as this! It’s just a little paper cut.”
“Yeah, but you know how much these things hurt! Fingers are very sensitive, lots of nerve endings.” Dee scowled at his desk. “I always knew paperwork was the most dangerous part of our job.”
Ryo laughed. “More dangerous than armed gangs?”
“Yep! We know what to watch out for on the street, but paperwork just lurks there, waiting to catch you unawares. Lulls you into a false sense of security and then it strikes. Anyway, it’s not such a little cut! It’s deep; it might need stitches.”
“All it needs is a Band-Aid, and only because if you don’t cover it you’ll get blood all over those forms you’re supposed to be filling in.”
“Huh! See if I’m sympathetic next time you get injured in the line of duty!” Dee grumbled. He studied his bleeding fingertip then stuck it in his mouth, sucking it clean.
Rummaging in his desk drawer, Ryo produced a box of sticking plasters and tossed it onto Dee’s desk. “There, patch yourself up and get on with your work before the Chief gets on your case. If he catches you wasting time I guarantee he’ll be even less sympathetic than I am.”
With a heavy sigh, Dee flipped open the box, got out a Band-Aid and wrapped it around his wounded finger, shoving the rest of the packet in his own desk drawer. Sticking plasters had a tendency to fall off and he might need to replace it later.
The rest of the afternoon crept by at snail’s pace. The clerical side of police work was about as boring as life got; even watching paint dry would’ve been more entertaining. Dee was almost falling asleep over his final form, trying to keep his eyes open long enough to finish it, knowing Ryo would give him a hard time if he tried to leave it until tomorrow.
“Almost.” Gritting his teeth, Dee forced himself to flip the form over and fill in the other side. How did his partner stay so chipper even after hours of drudgery? He didn’t know, but if he could bottle it he’d make a fortune. Hell, he could use a shot of it himself. “Done!” Putting his pen down he slumped back into his seat.
“Good; want to come over to mine tonight? Or is your finger still too painful?”
“It’s terrible. I need looking after.”
Ryo smiled. “I can do that.”