Title: Gun Un-Happy
Characters: Dee, Ryo
Setting: Before Vol. 4.
Summary: Dee’s none too pleased to be told he has to use a revolver.
Word Count: 555
Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, Dee Laytner, he's stuck with revolver while everyone else gets an automatic,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
When the detectives of the 27th Precinct had been allocated automatics in place of their standard issue revolvers, Dee had been in seventh heaven. They were awesome! Greater firepower, faster to load, and way more bullets per clip than the old six shot held. He couldn’t wait to head down to the firing range to test his out; target practice had never been so much fun.
His jubilation lasted just a month before he got called into the Chief’s office and forcibly separated from his beloved automatic. Apparently, he was using too many bullets. He tried promising to stop the excessive practice sessions and only use the gun on duty, but the Chief wasn’t having any of it.
“You’re a gun-happy loose cannon, Laytner, I’m thinking of public safety here. Letting you loose with a full clip, plus a round in the chamber, is just asking for trouble. Just because you have sixteen rounds available doesn’t mean you have to use them all. Until you learn to control that itchy trigger finger of yours, you’re restricted to revolver use only. Cheaper for the department and a whole lot less hazardous for the people you’re meant to be protecting.”
Dee returned to his desk under a cloud of gloom.
“Dee? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Ryo’s concern was a soothing balm to Dee’s aching heart.
“That rotten old badger confiscated my automatic!” he whined. “I have to go back to using a revolver.” Slumping across his desk, he buried his head in his arms. “It’s not fair! How’m I supposed to do my job?”
“The same way you did it before we were issued automatics, I imagine.”
Dee just hated it when Ryo was the voice of reason. Raising his head an inch, he glared balefully across the piles of paperwork between them.
“That’s cold! Thanks for nothing, partner, see if I’m sympathetic next time you’re facing a tragedy of epic proportions.” Ryo actually had the nerve to snicker at that. “Laugh it up, buddy. You’re the one who has to go out there on the mean streets with me every day, and now I’m restricted to firing no more than six shots per day!”
“Word of honour.”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t so eager to plunge headlong into danger you wouldn’t need to use as many bullets.”
It didn’t matter what Ryo said, Dee was weighed down by the injustice of it all. He was a good cop, but the bad guys wouldn’t find him much of a deterrent if he was unable to shoot them because he’d used up his daily ration of bullets. They’d laugh in his face! Of course, he’d have Ryo at his back, and his partner did get to carry an automatic, so maybe they could still be an effective team.
He pulled out his gun and examined it. Hello, old faithful. Well, okay, if he was reduced to using a six-shot again, he’d just have to make sure every shot counted. He’d prove the badger wrong; he wasn’t a loose cannon, he could control himself.
Dee didn’t know how, but he was determined that one day he’d get his automatic back. Until then, he’d prove he didn’t need the extra firepower to get results. With that in mind, he headed down to the firing range to practice.