Characters: Drake, JJ, OC.
Setting: Sometime during the later volumes.
Summary: Drake decides it’s time for a snack to keep his energy levels up.
Word Count: 427
Written For: samuraiter’s prompt ‘Author's Choice, Any, ketchup, mustard, relish, delicious,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Drake was starving, which was by no means unusual. He had a fast metabolism; that was what he always said when anyone asked him how he could eat so much and yet stay so skinny. As far as he was concerned, it was a mixed blessing; it meant he didn’t have to watch his weight, which was good because he could eat anything he wanted, but it also meant getting hungry at inconvenient moments. For instance, he always had to take plenty of snacks on stakeouts.
He wasn’t on stakeout now though, which was fortunate. Instead, he and JJ were just interviewing witnesses to a violent robbery that had left the victim in hospital and still unconscious. He looked around to see what sources of food were available and spotted the ideal thing.
“Hey, JJ, I’m gonna get a hotdog. D’you want one?”
“No thanks, Drakey, I’m still full from lunch.” Nevertheless, JJ tagged along as Drake made his way across the street to the hotdog vendor.
“Gimme one with everything please,” Drake said, handing over his money, grinning in anticipation as the vendor used tongs to slip a dog into a warm bun, adding onions, sauerkraut, and a juicy pickle. Drake handed over his money and took possession of his afternoon snack, adding the finishing touches from the bottles and jars on the vendor’s cart. Ketchup first, then mustard, and finally relish.
Turning away, and just about to take his first bite, Drake caught sight of the pained expression on JJ’s face. “What’s the matter?”
“How you can eat that is beyond me!”
“Don’t you like hotdogs?” Drake was baffled. How could any New Yorker not like hotdogs?
“I love them, just… not like that.”
“Like what?” Drake looked at his hotdog, but couldn’t see anything wrong with it. He had the sausage in the bun, there were onions, sauerkraut, pickle, nothing missing that should be there. “Looks fine to me.” He took a big bite. Oh yeah, that was perfect! “Mmmmm, delicious!”
JJ shook his head. “Sometimes I think your taste buds must not work. All those different flavours warring with each other, how can you stand it?”
Drake laughed. “But that’s the best thing about hotdogs. Doesn’t matter what you put on them, they still taste great.”
“I give up,” JJ sighed. “But just so you know, while you’re eating that, I’m keeping upwind of you so my eyes don’t water. I don’t want to get back to the precinct looking all puffy and bloodshot. It’s not a good look on me at all.”